Play it again, Sam
by Salamara
Summary: The Joker can't resist a good game - especially when he has the best hand. What could be better than an Ace in the Hole? Until he realises he has something no one supects - he has a Wild Card to play...
1. Let's Play

_I don't own anything to do with Batman, but I do own the character of Samantha. This is just a little thing I had spring up in my head after seeing the film and after reading some of your FanFics. Nothing major. Hope you like._

* * *

'Well hello there honey-doll...'

His grin was nauseating.

'And how's life treating _you_?!'

My breathing halted in numb disbelief.

'How the hell did you get in here?'

The Joker let his brow crease; apparently offended.

'That's no way to greet an old friend -'

'You're no friend of mine -'

His palm was heavy as it slammed into the wall next to my head.

'_That's not what you said last time -_'


	2. Deal

I could feel his breath staining my cold face: he smelt of nothing but menthol-soaked tobacco.

'I didn't exactly have a choice last time -'

'You had plenty of choice, sugar: to be seduced or _not_ to be seduced – we both know which you opted for…'

'And I've regretted it ever since -'

The Joker pulled away from me hesitantly; a slow expression of confusion seeping through his make-up. He cocked his head with curiosity.

'Don't say that,' He smiled at me; no – he leered. 'Don't say that; I _know_ you don't mean that.'

His heavy gait took him to the ugly armchair I still had shoved in the corner of my refuge. I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding in my lungs as he turned away with a skip. I wasn't scared of him – I've never been scared of him: the worst he can do is kill me – what's there to be scared of?

Trying to compose myself and still look pissed-off wasn't easy with shaking limbs. I scraped the hair away from my face with sweated palms.

'Why are you here then?'

Those garish green eyes of his were concentrated on the knife he twirled in his gloved fingers. I then realised they weren't; he was staring through the blade – at me. He was examining every part of my body.

I pulled my waistcoat tighter.

My throat was closing.

'Why are you here…' I forced out the words.

'Sam…you _must_ know -'

My pills were on the kitchen side: _Propranolol_. They burnt into the side of my head. I could feel the anxiety bubbling up through my nervous system.

'You need cover?' I sounded pathetic even to myself; like a little girl offering her one-cent sweets to an adult.

'I need cover.'

The shuddering began in my legs.

'What's it for?'

'Bank job.'

'That's oddly unimaginative for you -'

I watched as he gently tapped the knife blade against his teeth.

My skin prickled.

'When and where?'

'Gotham main -'

'Right -'

'Thursday -'

'Thursday? As in _this_ Thursday?'

'You're the best, Sam – that's why I'm here…'

I laughed.

'You think I'm lying?'

My panic attack was sat in-waiting.

'No man; I know you're not lying. I just wish you'd think rationally for once -'

'It's hard when you're a psychopathic schizophrenic, y'know?'

A genuine smile danced on my lips for a split second. I nodded myself out of it.

'I can get you cover. Leave it with me.'

I assumed at this point he would get up and make his exit. He was still sat in my chair after a long silence.

My legs shook dangerously. He knew I needed those pills on my sideboard: his gaze told me so.

'Can I help you with something else?'

Stupid question. He started to get up.

'Y'know, Samantha…'

I lunged for the kitchen drawer beneath the pills where my gun was kept. I didn't even make it half way there before his leather-clad fingers were round my throat.

'_Why_ – do you always think I'm gonna _hurt_ you…?!'

He seemed genuinely hurt, despite his quiet little chuckle.

'You've got your hand round my neck for starters…' I wasn't trying to be funny.

'Why can't you just…_play along_…?'

I was trying to prise his fingers away when he kissed me. I could feel the distorted flesh of his mug against mine as he pressed me hard against the wall. The stink of greasy face-paint crawled up my nose, and my features were being smeared with the oily-base as he persevered.

I bit down.

'OOww!!'

A hand went to his mouth in shock as I shoved him away.

'Slow down, sweetheart!'

'What the hell are you doing?!'

'You always were the feisty one -'

The Joker let out that high-pitched giggle as he saw the blood on his sleeve.

'I've said I'll help, just leave now -!'

He paused with perfect silence: his eyes were glinting up at me from under the thick black paint. My hands were stark white with the lack of blood that was flowing through my fingers, but the stare was scolding me.

I didn't have chance to strike up a defence before he slammed me back once again. My spine struck the door frame as he snarled and I couldn't help but wince.

'_I did this for _you_, Sam – I did _this_ – for _you_ -!!'_

He jabbed at his face; he was too close – I couldn't breathe. The year-old scars were sickening even now; even after all this time.

'_Why_?! Why did you do it?! I never wanted you to – you're fucking _crazy_ –!'

He hooked a finger into my mouth and gripped at my cheek as I tried to look away. The flesh ached with the strain of being pulled.

'You still can't bear to look at me can you? Not properly -'

The Joker held himself close to me; his chest heaved against mine.

'Look at me -'

'Stop it, please -!'

'I wanted you to know you weren't alone...'

I was sure my cheek would split if he kept pulling. The corners of my mouth were dry and cracked already; I remembered how easily the knife had sliced through my skin the first time.

'We would have been fine -'

His finger ran along the indent of my matching scars; the only difference was I tried to hide mine.

Tears of pity long past built in my eyes as he slid his hand away, down my neck.

'I hate you...'

A slow grin resurfaced through his sickly-white make-up.

'Of course you do, sweetheart -'

He winked at me.

'Everybody does.'


	3. Happy Families

**_I don't own any of the Batman characters, and I certainly can't hold any credit for the song lyrics below; the thanks there goes to the Scissor Sisters - 'I Can't decide'._**

**_Samantha, however, is mine. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far - I REALLY appreciate the feedback! I hope you enjoy the rest._**

**_-Sal-_**

* * *

_I'm not a gangster tonight  
Don't want to be a bad guy  
I'm just a loner baby  
And now you're gotten in my way  
_

_It's a bitch convincing people to like you  
If I stop now call me a quitter  
If lies were cats you'd be a litter  
Pleasing everyone isn't like you  
Dancing jigs until I'm crippled  
Slug ten drinks I won't get pickled_

_I've got to hand it to you  
You've played by all the same rules  
It takes the truth to fool me  
And now you've made me angry_

_I can't decide  
Whether you should live or die  
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven  
Please don't hang your head and cry  
No wonder why  
My heart feels dead inside  
It's cold and hard and petrified  
Lock the doors and close the blinds  
We're going for a ride_

I woke up beside him.

I don't know how, so don't judge me.

He just always seems to have a way of saying what I want to hear, even if it is twisted and crazy. I suppose it was his dark side that I was attracted to in the first place; that black sense of humour, the little things that tickled him about the state of the world.

I'll never forget watching the news through a shop window once; it was only a few months after we were married. There was a special report on the flash-flood that hit Egypt not so long ago; they'd been pleading for aid against the drought for God knows how many years.

And I knew it was coming: that hysterical laughter.

As the headlines rolled across the bottom of the disaster-stricken scene, my husband was bent double beside me, in front of every Gotham civilian who happened to be passing. His face was creased with hilarity. He even had to crouch down to catch his breath.

I could feel my face burning with embarrassment as everyone stared, and yet, at the back of my own throat, the laughter was clawing to get out.

He gasped, and hit his legs desperately. I tried to get him to stand up but he couldn't; he just sat and cried, trying his hardest to cough up the words.

'_They-they've been begging for water-for so long…..NOW THEY'VE GOT IT!! HA HA HA HAA…!!'_

The unpredictability that was fun in the beginning was starting to scare me. His temper was getting more and more strained too, and within five years we were finding ourselves estranged. I knew he was ill, but I didn't know how to handle it. There were frequent trips to the psychiatrist, but they weren't doing anything to help him.

In the end I got caught-up with the Mob: Gotham's answer to the Godfather. I needed to earn money for the both of us. It was only when I bungled a job that I realised just how much worse I had made things…

My face was stitched-up by a friend since I refused to go to the hospital – it wouldn't have been sensible; someone could have recognised me. I doubted that afterwards when I was finally shown the results.

But it was the look in his eyes when he found me that hurt more than anything. I could almost see the last of his sanity crumble beneath that tired exterior he grasped onto.

The next time I saw him he was collapsing to his knees in front of me, blood drooling from his own split mug, laughing that unnaturally hysterical laugh.

Tears followed; whispered words of love, and promises that would never be broken.

They were, of course.

We had lain in each other's arms for days: two torn and mended marionettes put to rest until someone could be bothered to bring us back to life.

When we were finally ready to play again, we would simply be partners in crime. The past: forgotten.

Though his warmth at my back now was strangely soothing; if it wasn't for the constant tug of scar-tissue at my mouth I could have pretended we were back in our cheap-ass one-room apartment, huddled against the cold, trying to save every cent we could for our wedding.

I carefully rolled myself over to see him – and found him staring back.

'I thought you were asleep.'

The Joker said nothing. His make-up had been smudged off and I could make-out his scars for what they really were. My nerves started their usual frantic dance routine.

'I should start sorting that job -'

Light seeping in from the uneven curtains made a perfect band over his eyes as he watched me. I didn't know whether or not to move. His undying smile was hard to read; if it was genuine, it wouldn't have been contentment that he smiled with.

Finally I went to push away the bed clothes, but his hand stopped me. He held his palm firmly on my stomach and wouldn't let me move.

'I need to get on -'

'What's the matter?' His voice was barely a murmur.

'I've just told you – I've gotta get moving on this job if you need it by Thursday -'

'No…there's something else…'

I felt his fingers graze over my skin.

'What aren't you telling me…?'

I attempted to move again but he shoved me back down.

'_Samantha_…' He growled and hung over me now. I matched his glare.

'There's nothing to tell…'

'I don't believe you…'

After a moment's pause, he carefully peeled back the bed covers.

He didn't smile.

His eyes were a dull grey when he could finally bear looked at me. Realisation dawned: exactly _why_ I had felt so different that night.

His tongue slipped over his lips, before clicking.

'...naughty girl...' He shook his head sadly.

'...and you weren't even going to tell me...'

I scrabbled away from his clutch.

'Why would you be interested...?'

'My own wife pregnant and she wasn't even going to tell me...'

'It's got nothing to do with you...'

I forced myself into my jeans and shirt, avoiding the mirror at all costs.

'So what fool could bear to look at you long enough to get that close?'

The glass I threw smashed on the wall behind his head as he remained sprawled under my sheets; tiny shards scattered over him with a shimmer.

He blinked slowly, and wetted his lips.

'That could have hit me...'

'_Get out!_'

The words grated along my throat as I screamed at him, throwing anything I could find in his direction, including his ridiculous purple jacket.

'Hey – I just got this pressed!' The Joker eased himself out of my bed and straightened the creases.

'You're a freak!'

'So I've been told -'

'After Thursday, the jobs stop – it finishes; you and me...we don't see each other anymore...'

He finished tucking his shirt-in and glanced up at me.

'Well now honey – I'm not sure I agree with that...'

'Tough – find someone else to do your dirty work. I'm going clean.'

The Joker snorted.

'No – you see – it _just_ doesn't work like that, sugar. _This,_ -'

He gestured between us.

'- you understand, is a partnership. _This_...is a contract. A _contract_ – that has to be worked to the end, honey-doll. And unfortunately...'

He shadowed over my pitiful form

'...this contract lasts for a _very_ long time...'

The air between us buzzed with static, before I took a step closer to the clown.

'Contracts can be cancelled.'

'Not this one, doll.'

I quietly scoffed at his intimidation and eased away.

'You still haven't told me whose it is...'

I froze. My body refused to turn so I could look him in the eyes. He wasn't a stupid guy; it didn't take long before the laugh started in his throat.

'Ooh ha ha ha! I thought so! Of _course_ it's mine! Ha ha – you think it'll have my incredibly charming personality?! HA HA HA HA HA!!'

I watched the tears escape along his mutilated cheeks.

'Why don't you give it to the Bat? Give him a little taster of what the _real_ Joker's like?!' He hooted uncontrollably as I gazed on.

'I'm not keeping it...'

The Joker took a weak breath between the gasps of delight.

'Wha...?'

I blinked calmly.

'I'm getting rid of it. Tomorrow.'


	4. Snap!

**_Thank you for sticking with me on this one! I'm really enjoying writing it, and I'm glad to see that it's not going completely to waste!! Please read & review - positive feedback is always welcomed, and hints & tips and truly appreciated!_**

**_Keep up those smiles!_**

**_-Sal-_**

* * *

The Joker's slack features gaped at me, speechless for once. His flush cheeks, drained of all colour, were almost as pale as the make-up he was patched in.

'Wha – what d'you mean?'

I casually shook my head.

'I'm not taking the chance; I don't want a kid that might turn out like you.'

'No no – you can't -'

'Yes,' I nodded, 'I can.'

I went to walk away, only stopping to hear his feeble attempt to reason with me.

'But it's our kid – _my_ kid...!'

'Exactly!'

Too far.

His eyes pierced through my skin like needles. With a knotted snarl he grabbed my wrist and dragged me through the hall. As we passed the kitchenette, he grabbed his bag.

'What are you doing _now_?!'

I was pulled off balance and couldn't struggle free from his abnormally strong grasp.

'Well if you're unwilling to negotiate we'll have to take matters a _little_ more seriously won't we?' His cackle ricocheted off of the thin walls and made my muscles shudder.

I was jostled roughly into the front room and thrown into a chair.

'Sit there -'

I got up.

'I said _sit_ -' He pushed me back down by my face.

'What're you gonna do?!'

'We're gonna play a game...'

'Oh shit -'

'You'll have three chances to change your mind,' He pulled a band of explosives from his bag and began tying me to the chair. 'And _if_ on the third go you are still _adamant_ that you don't want to continue my _exceptionally moral bloodline_...'

He raised his face from the knot and made the sound of an all-too realistic explosion.

'_...boom..._'

My entire body was tense – sweat-soaked – and flooding with adrenaline.

'You really think a child's gonna grow up normal with a father like _you_?!'

'Tell me, honey...'

There's the grin.

'..._what is normal these days??_'

My bare feet skidded and burnt along the carpet as I tried frantically to wrench free of my bonds.

'_Get me the hell out of this...!!_'

'Na-ah-ah...' He was slicking back his hair in a small mirror. '...struggling isn't one of the rules. Now -'

The mirror was chucked over his shoulder and The Joker jumped up onto the kitchen side.

'Question number one: Do you want to bring our miracle-child into this world?'

'How is blowing me up gonna save this kid?!'

He tutted in disappointment.

'_Wrong...!_'

A small device was removed from his pocket and the dial turned.

'Question-number-two...'

He clapped his hands together in front of his mouth; his eyes rising in mock-contemplation.

'Would it be of ethical benefit to the community as a whole...to give birth to my son-_and/or_-daughter?'

'_NO!_'

The Joker sighed.

'Wrong again I'm afraid...'

He heaved himself down off the side and sidled over to me.

'You're not doing too well, honey, are you?!'

The dial clicked round.

'Last question – for the bonus prize of life, the universe and _everything_...!'

He leaned in close so I could hear his burbling whisper.

'..._do you want to have my baby?_'

I glared up into his deep emerald eyes, and sneered.

'I would rather die...'

Without surprise, The Joker blinked, and slowly recoiled.

'Somehow...I just _knew_ you'd say that...'

The dial clicked.


	5. OneCard Draw

**_Thank you if you're still reading this and thank you so much for all the kind reviews! I know I should have left this story there, but I just can't stop writing; I've worked a complete life out for them in my head! So please keep reading and reviewing and stick with me if you can - I've hopefully got some great things coming!!_**

**_-Sal-_**

* * *

The night was young and I was drunk. This was obvious from my position on the stage of whatever dive bar I'd ended up in; singing my god damn heart out.

I had begun the night with three other girls of my age, height, build, and sexual deviance, with the intention of 'pulling' a few guys and basically doing all the things are parents would have killed us for when we were back at home. Moving to Gotham was, at present, the best choice any of us had _ever_ made.

My voice was beginning to crack from the strain of hollering out the words to 'Juke Box Blues' at the top of my lungs, despite the fact I couldn't _technically_ sing. But who cared – the crowd was laughing and clapping along with my own hysterical shuffle-of-a-dance. I rarely dressed-up from my usual jeans and a sweater, but tonight I'd gone daring and slipped into a skirt. I shocked even myself as I rah-rahed it around and received a great 'whoop!' from the assembled mass.

Finishing on a high, I flung the mike to the stage-hand and skipped along with the jeers, off-stage and towards the bar; grinning inanely at every passing compliment. I was fully aware that my friends had left me and were now, most likely, in the back of some truck having their skirts tugged and breasts fondled. It was _my_ firm belief, however, that drinking tequila shots and losing your voice was far more fun than supping white wine spritzers and misplacing your panties. Less chilly, too.

I bounced with impatience whilst the bar tender slopped beer to every other customer except me. I was aware of an arm offering up a ten dollar bill, before a whisky chaser was slid in my direction. I looked up to its supplier and saw his sly smile.

'S'on me.'

My first reaction was to blink, and then refocus my vision. I had been adamant not to be bought that night with a short drink and quick-witted leer. Then again, who was I to pass-up the kindness of a stranger offering a whiskey?

I said nothing and slammed back the spirit. My tongue recoiled in horror; it shared the burn with my throat as I gasped away the taste.

The benefactor of the drink chuckled gently to himself as he looked-on; apparently enjoying my indignant lack of thanks. As I quickly recovered, I recognised him to be the guy who had been singing earlier; the one who was described by my friend as being 'a hunk of loveliness'. I'd replied with my usual: "I've seen better".

'Where you from?'

I strained to hear him over the crowd's cheering at the new talent who had taken-up my place on stage. I was also aware that I may have been leering slightly, since now, close-up, I could see my friend's point.

'Uh-ha-ha…Gotham – I guess…'

The stranger grinned.

'Local...good, good…' He was nodding – and; was that a blush appearing on those well-defined cheeks? I smirked at the ridiculous situation.

'You like country and western then?'

'No, not really – it just always seems to be the most entertaining thing when you're pissed out of your skull!'

His smile widened.

'I couldn't agree more!' He laughed above the noise. 'Maybe we could do one together?'

I frowned and shook my head, not quite catching what he said.

'Maybe we could do a song together? Y'know – a duet?'

My eyebrows rose dramatically in mock-surprise.

'You really think these people could cope with my singing again? And I use that word in the loosest possible sense…'

'Sure they can – you were pretty fine up there! You have the energy – that's always good…'

He winked and lifted his hand.

'Jack Napier -'

Suddenly my eyes and head were in sync again and I could see everything perfectly, yet all my focus was directed at him. He waited in anticipation to see if I would take-up his offer. I let my fingers slip into his.

'Samantha Dent….pleased to meet you…'

The truth be told; I moved to Gotham from Alabama to escape my suffocating parents and their sainted son. My brother, Harvey, had always been the favourite and even though I was the baby of the family I was still ignored. My suggestion of becoming an architect had been mocked and pushed under the pile of dreams Harvey had. He was going to be an attorney one day…apparently. God help the US justice system is all I can say.

The only chance of making something of my life was to move-on without a family and start again – alone. I was twenty-one when I made it to Gotham, and now, standing in the bar, chatting to this strangely entertaining man, I realised my move couldn't have been made at a better time.

Before I knew it – and after a few more drinks no doubt – I was up on stage once again, murdering a Johnny Cash song with a guy I had only known for half an hour.

"_Go lightly from the ledge, babe;  
Go lightly on the ground.  
I'm not the one you want, babe;  
I'll only let you down.  
You say you're lookin' for someone  
Who'll promise never to part;  
Someone to close his eyes to you,  
Someone to close his heart.  
Someone to die for you and more;_

_But it ain't me babe  
No, no, no, it ain't me babe  
It ain't me you're lookin' for, _

_Babe…"_

Irony is twisted, isn't it?

We were lying on top of Gotham's steepest, darkest hill for the next hour or so, simply laughing. Not about anything in particular – just life in general. He dropped-in a few half-hearted comments about a shitty childhood, and I responded with my own. I wasn't sure whether he was serious about his father – and I wasn't going to push the matter. Either way, I knew I'd never been in a more peaceful sanctuary than at the top of this silent grassy knoll, here with Jack.

'So you're still waiting to see all the sights and sounds of Gotham, then?'

Grinning like an idiot I rolled my head to see him.

'Guess I am, yeah.'

'Maybe you'll let me show you? We could have some fun,'

Yet another pathetic giggle escaped my lips and I turned back to the stars above.

'Sounds like an offer I can't refuse…'

I felt his smile warming my cheek as he lay beside me. He lifted his eyes to the night sky and there was a short, comfortable silence between us, before his husky murmur hit the air again.

'You're the most beautiful thing I've seen in a long time…'

Laughter burst from my throat without warning as I hunched beside him.

'What? What the hell…?!'

Jack was beginning to flush again, but all the same, played along with my hysterics.

'I was paying you a compliment for god sakes……Jesus…!'

'I know, I know…! It was just so corny!!'

I clutched my stomach painfully and battered away the hand he tried to control me with. He was leaning over me as my laughter subsided.

'Cut it out! I don't like being laughed at when I'm trying to be serious…hurts my feelings…'

His exaggerated pout made my giggling resurface, before I slowly calmed to a whimper. He looked down at me, and for the first time I really appreciated what he looked like: dirty-blonde curls edging the base of his neck, only working to accentuate his clear, glittering gaze. There were unmistakable creases around his eyes and dimples under those strong cheek-bones of his that made this guy something else: an illustration of complete physical happiness.

I hadn't even realised I'd been kissing him when I found my fingers slipping through his hair. He seemed oblivious to how firmly he was gripping my jaw as his lips held mine, but I let his hand stay; I never wanted it to move again.

The inevitable of course promptly followed. It was about four in the morning when we were sat at his kitchen table – me, tucked-up on his lap; both wrapped in the bed sheet – worn playing-cards spread about, as he fervently tried to explain the rules of Texas Holdem Poker to me.

'This – is the _Wild Card_ -'

He held the Joker up to the dim light as his smile shimmered.

'You can do anything you like with this one……that's why it's my favourite card in the pack…'

The sudden guise on his face shook me then – and it undeniably shook me now.


	6. Poker Face

**_I don't own anything to do with Batman or the Joker...but HELL - I wish I did ;-)_**

* * *

Smoke hung heavy over the tall silhouette at the window. I watched it rise from the cigarette that the Joker held in his lips.

'That'll kill you, y'know...'

He took a drag and glanced at me over his shoulder.

'You want me to change my mind?'

'You had your chance...'

He muttered a dark chuckle and turned away again.

I knew he couldn't take the leap – even if he had had the charge in the explosives. Despite what we'd both been through, we were still married, and though we both refused to admit it; we still needed each other.

The cigarette was stubbed-out on the wall, next to every other stain and smoulder mark. Slowly he skulked along the shadows in front of me.

'Why d'you want this kid so bad, anyway?'

He found the darkest corner and hunched himself into it.

'What else do I have?'

I felt a pang of guilt and selfishness hit my chest as he ran a weary hand through his hair.

'You could have a lot more if you went straight…we could be happy again…'

'Ha ha – very good; I like that.' A finger wagged at me in mock amusement.

'So what – what's your plan? I give birth to your psycho-brat only to have it raised as the tyro of Gotham's own mass-murdering terrorist?'

The figure in the corner was snickering into his sleeve.

'And where do _I_ feature in all this? The mistress? The quiet little house wife?'

'Ok, Doll – that's going too far...when were you ever a house wife?'

A tiny ironic smile crawled over my face.

'We had a life together once, remember?'

'No we didn't;'

The Joker rose from his haunches effortlessly

'We had two: two very _separate_ ones. I didn't find out about yours until I discovered you grinning ear-to-ear...'

This was true. My heart jumped a beat.

'I know I messed things up Ja…'

'You wanna know my idea?'

He was refusing to hear any of my words. The knife was taken from his pocket and flipped open and shut between his fingers as he paced.

'_Think-think-think-think-think...'_

'You don't have a plan – you just make things up as you go along.'

'HA HA-HA!! _Yess!_' He slid along in front of me with a flounce. '_You know it, doll!_'

The knife stopped an inch from my face. I raised an eyebrow warily.

'Do you remember when we first met...?'

The grease-paint twitched. My heavy eyes blinked.

'You remember how long we stared at the stars for...?'

The Joker ran his tongue across dry lips, a smirk imminent as he clucked and cooed.

'_No no no no…_' He shook his head with a laugh.

'You remember what you said to me that night...?'

'Oh ho ho – heh – no, no-no, no...don't – I'm – no, heh he...'

He shrank back slightly, mumbling his incomprehensible gibberish.

'You told me I was beautiful – you told me that together, we could be stronger than anyone, _anything_...share a life, you said – share the joke...'

'Don't, ha, Sam – no-'

'Why not; it could still work. We could be stronger together – rule Gotham as a family Jack...'

'_DON'T...!!'_

The blade was stabbed back to my eye line ferociously. I forced myself back in the chair as The Joker hunkered-down over me, trembling with white fear.

'_Dooon't – hoo hoo – _don't say that name, Sam...don't say it...'

I've learnt from past experience, that pushing this man isn't particularly sensible. It appeared now that he was about to remind me.

My chest tightened as if I was being squeezed; wrung-out like a wet towel. I only managed to breathe again when his face was pulled away, and I slumped forward in my chair, aware that he was still pacing, muttering to himself.

'You really must get out of the habit of winding me up Sam – I can't see it doing you any good...'

The purple gloves were re-donned and the knife polished.

'Let's try again...'

He threw himself onto the sofa.

'_This__ is_ my plan: you'll come live with me – least until the kid's born – _after that you can do whatever the hell you like_ -'

He dismissed my part with a wave of the hand and jumped back up.

'– and when little angel is old enough to get out there – get some work experience as it were...'

He was circling my chair.

'..._total chaos will reign...'_

He cackled wildly and jigged on the spot.

'Sounds good...' I muttered, tugging against my restraints.

'Glad you like it – cause you're gonna help me...'

I paused from my battle with the ties and frowned at him.

'I thought you just said I was out of the picture?'

'Nope, changed my mind – we need the _sympathy vote_...'

My shoulders slumped.

'Sympathy vote...?'

'_Yesss!_' He clapped blissfully. 'Young mum – deserted by criminal husband – _fame_ – _fortune_ – the world and his wife trying to help you!'

My brain was physically aching.

'Y'know – strangely – I just can't see where this one is going...'

'No one will ever imagine you to be on my side...!' His hands clamped either side of my tired, battered face. I blinked, and then finally sighed.

'So I'm coming with you then?'

The Joker smiled his winning smile.

'Why so serious, beautiful?' He slipped a knife under the rope and cut me loose. 'We'll have a _wild time_! _HA HA-HA-HA HA!!_'


	7. Ace in the Hole

**_This is just a quick chapter link. Hope it makes sense. Enjoy :D_**

* * *

The morning was crisp; cold but bright – a nice day. I was sat in Gotham Park, alone on a bench, eating a chicken sandwich. I'd been waiting for a good half hour now.

As I scrutinized the crust of my lunch my ears were aware of the sky exploding with the sound of a disintegrating wall. I'd already heard the tell-tale screams and the splatter of gunfire, signalling the arrival of three bank-robbers. I was now only hanging-around to make sure the buses were running smoothly.

They were.

I raised my face towards Gotham Main bank just in time to see the school vehicle pull back onto the carriageway and slip in amongst all the other yellow trucks. My job was done – the cover had worked.

After screwing up my paper I tossed it towards a garbage bin – it probably missed, but I couldn't bring myself to turn and look. My body was being drawn towards the chaos and rubble now strewn along the sidewalk; I could've sworn I heard riotous giggling still stemming from the bank, but it was almost certainly my imagination. There were only howls of pain and terror now.

Sirens screamed around the corner and past the bank's crumbling wall as I headed out of the park. Hands shoved in my pockets and my beanie pulled down over my hair, I tramped past the mayhem with a casual stride. I felt my ceaseless grinning straining at my mouth as I attempted to look like a typical Gotham civilian: this, I knew, would never be possible.

The anarchy played-on and I could hear it still sifting through the air when I reached the end of the block. Paramedics had arrived along with more of the city's finest, and I guessed that they would now be fervently tracking any clown driving a school bus...

The sound of a pill packet rattled from my jacket pocket. I tugged out the medication and re-read the directions;

'_40mg before anxious situations. For long-term anxiety 40mg two or three times daily.'_

They made no noise when I dropped them into the bin; I'd have to learn to live without them. I'd never have enough anyway.

Sirens hit the sky again. I was running through what I could have for dinner when a stream of cars rushed past – maybe I could order something in, save some time. I spared a moment to wonder whether I would be dining alone that night, or whether The Joker would be joining me. It all depended on whether he got rid of the bus on time, and whether he was pleased with the job.

Of course; there was always the possibility that he would get caught.

A laugh cracked from my lips as I walked leisurely towards the pit that I now lived in. I shook my head at the thought and sighed happily.

It's the little things that tickle me.


	8. Wild Card

I stared dumb-struck at the mountain of cash piled in the centre of the warehouse. Neither the clatter of the shutters outside, nor the trample of multiple thick-soled boots could tear my sated attention away from the millions of dollars staring me back in the face.

It was the reverberating yowl that finally did.

'_OO HOO HOO!! WHAT A NIGHT!!'_

He shook his head like the crazy dog he was, and let his body follow.

I was drawn-in to his hysterical delight like a hare to an oncoming truck before I remembered the stash; it pulled my attention back.

'How the hell did you get it all here...?'

The Joker threw back a drink.

'_Team-work!_'

His gun fired and one of the gang dropped dead.

I watched the body slump to the floor, and nodded gently.

'Less to share with...'

'_Share?'_

Crumbs were flying from his mouth as he made his way towards me.

'Who said I'd be _sharing_?' He took another bite of my dinner.

A quiet grumble lifted from the team behind us. We both turned: they were halfway to the door, dragging their dead colleague.

'Did you say something?' The Joker insisted from under the dull light.

It took a while before one of them answered.

'No boss – just cleaning up...'

'Good – don't want any more _accidents_ tonight, do we?'

There was a grunted acceptance as the remaining three disappeared out of the exit, and I was left alone with him – again.

'What're you gonna do with it all?'

He didn't answer me straight away. Instead, he paced; back and forth in front of the hoard of notes – his eyes sparkling with lust. For a moment he seemed vaguely overwhelmed by the magnitude of what he had done – what he had made happen.

His tongue flicked over his lips.

'Well I don't know...I'm sure the kid will need a crib or ten...' He chose a wad and thumbed it. 'Maybe its own football team -'

Watching him brought a smile to my lips. Not one I was proud of – as soon as I realised I shook it off; but for a split second I could see my husband in the man before me. My hand ran instinctively over my midriff.

'I'm sure one crib will be fine...'

The bundle was chucked carelessly back onto the rest and I was turned on without warning.

'And speaking of which – _how is my prodigal son today?!_'

The Joker fell to his knees in front of me and proceeded to press his ear to my stomach.

I was momentarily stunned: I wasn't expecting that.

'Uh – well one thing's for damn sure – he's certainly gonna have your energy...'

I'd had terrible indigestion for the whole four months of my pregnancy; this, no doubt, was a sign of things to come.

'And how d'you know it's not gonna be a girl anyway? You just gonna ignore the possibility?'

His quiet little chuckle washed over me without effect; it was just another thing I'd already gotten used to with him.

The Joker rose to my eye line with painted smirk – the self-inflicted scars like embroidery on a doll.

'If it's a girl – all the better...'

There was a moment of hesitation before a gloved hand skimmed my vision, stroking dark hair from my ragged cheeks.

'If we're lucky, she'll have your eye for a good game...your manipulative nature...'

The gap between us was closed as he crept in closer.

'Who knows -' he whispered into my ear 'she might be valuable to us both...'

It was always a shock just how much taller than me he was; a good six foot over my five foot seven. Still, my neck was taken between his palms as he tilted my head, scrutinizing every inch of my face.

'Manipulative…? Should I be taking that as a compliment?'

I ignored my subconscious as it threatened my flirtatious behaviour.

'Not unless you want to...'

My eyes were half-closed in waiting as I let him slink towards my lips, breathing a tender smile.

'I won't then...'

As I stepped on passed him I felt his body sag with tense dissatisfaction. I chewed away my sly grin and mused over the money.

'There's no way you're gonna spend all of this. What're you gonna do – stick it in a safe and forget about it?'

The Joker straightened himself reluctantly, before running stiff fingers though his hair.

'Of course I'm not gonna _spend_ it. What do I need? Money can't buy you happiness doll…' A short giggle erupted from his shadow.

It was hard to make out his features when he finally turned to me; his eyes hidden amongst the black paint. His smile, as always, was obvious.

'So what was the point in taking it?'

The warehouse was so still, so quiet around us; it was almost as if everything were happening in slow motion.

He'd now lit a cigarette and was considering me through the gloom. A sudden heat itched over my skin when his slow gait started in my direction.

'Sweetheart...' His head was shaking 'It's never about the _money_…'

There was a beat of space between us, when suddenly I was snatched to his side – his arm securely round my shoulders.

'It's about sending a _message_…'

With a grin he took one last drag on his cigarette, before flicking it effortlessly onto the mountain of dollar bills, sending them up into inextinguishable flames.

_'Everything burns...'_


	9. Showdown

The good thing about my scars – ha, ha – the o_n_ly good thing about my scars, is that when my friend stitched me up, she made a professional job of it. Being a nurse, she knew how to treat them so that the wounds healed quickly and with little disfigurement; leaving me with a rather – some might say – _contented_ charm.

My husband, on the other hand, was never a medical man; and consequently – when he had his own little _incident_ – the DIY stitching he attempted on himself was not quite so elegant.

It made me physically gag; the turgid silence as he dug the thick leather needle into his ripped cheek muscles and dragged it through the other side. He wouldn't allow me to help; I'd managed to clean him up, but then he'd pushed me away – made me sit in the corner of the room and watch as he mended himself. When he was done, he had examined his work in the mirror; the threads pulling at his jowls, straining, dimpling the pale skin around the raw flesh as he worked his face into a grin. Absolute satisfaction had painted his features ever since.

Still – in my case at least – it meant that with four layers of foundation I was able to cover my Chelsea Grin adequately enough for an appearance on CNN that night. Now, as I forced the cold tears from my eyes, and endured relentless questioning about my marriage to Gotham's greatest terrorist; it appeared that I had only a bad case of eczema adorning my cheeks. Obsessive viewers had phoned in and asked who exactly he was; why I was adamant to spawn his iniquitous offspring. Of course I had just squeezed out more tears, and finished with an award-winning panic attack on screen – ending my interview short.

A dense crowd swarming the television studios gave grounds for the managers to worry frantically for my wellbeing (or theirs) and were somewhat keen to issue me with a police escort home.

I followed the officer through snatching hands and erratic flashes of camera light, before collapsing thankfully into the back of his car.

My breath finally returned to me as we drove off and disappeared round a corner.

'Well – I have to hand it to you, sweetheart...'

The officer pulled off his decorated cap with a free hand.

'You don't disappoint!'

I watched quietly as The Joker shook out the blonde and tangled mane he'd had shoved under the hat. He let out a shriek of laughter and hit the steering wheel.

My eyes were weary and heavy with sleep when I blinked.

'They seemed to enjoy it -'

I leant back against the head rest for a second and gave-in to the dull throb at the front of my head.

'Of course they did; such guile, such pathetic neediness – _you were fantastic doll_!'

The car swung hard round the corner as we headed towards the city's main police station. My skull cracked against the door frame, waking me from my moments of rest.

'_Oww_ – take it easy!'

'_YE-HE-HE HA!!_'

I was caught by the glint of his green eyes in the rear-view mirror. The tilt of his hysterical features revealed a naked countenance; exposed flesh without a hint of his usual make-up. Those eyes: those eyes were Jack's – the creases leading to his brow, the wisps of blonde on his forehead, the high cheek bones: _that_ – was my husband.

'Why so serious, sweetheart?' His tongue darted over his lips out of habit 'Aren't you pleased with how it went?'

'Ecstatic...' I yawned and turned my face away, gazing blankly out of the tinted windows.

It wasn't until the car had slowed to a stop that I realised where we were.

'Shit…' The Joker hissed through gritted teeth.

'Why are we stopping outside the station?' I pulled myself forward in my seat, straining to see out of the windscreen.

'Road block – they're checking cars...'

'We're in a cop car for Christ's sake – why'd they wanna stop us?!'

'Just keep quiet will you? I'm not in the mood for killing anyone today – we'll just slip past; come back for them tomorrow...'

I felt the wink more than saw it.

We rolled slowly towards the three officers who were directing every other vehicle to one side of the road. Our hearts seemed to be rising in sync as one of them spotted the official car. My fingers tightened on The Joker's padded shoulder, regardless of knowing how ridiculous I would feel later.

'Cool it, doll – sit back n' relax...'

The approaching officer nodded a salute as my driver played along, cracking open his window in reply so that only the top of his face was visible.

'Hey buddy – how're you doing? You mind if I take a quick look in the back? Just hot on security at the moment – no doubt you've heard about the compulsory checks...'

The Joker inclined his head curtly and released my window.

The cop continued his nauseating pleasantries right up until the moment my window disappeared into its hilt.

'Jesus, it's you – the Joker's Mrs! Ha! Benny was just talkin' bout you! So what's the deal, babe – why's he so fucked up?'

He leant further into the car, edging me back in my seat.

'Could he not handle it: you a bit too feisty for him? We're gonna have trouble on our hands when that brat of yours is born...'

The barrel clicked round in its chamber, stopping the cop mid-sentence. I could see the colour physically drain from his face as he stared at me, totally perplexed.

'That's no way to talk to a lady..._is it_...?'

The Joker nudged the cop's temple with his gun.

'Nnmm...'

'Be a good kid and keep your mouth shut then. Just move us a long nice n' smoothly and we'll forget about this little run-in...'

The youngster nodded. Carefully he withdrew from the window and let it make its ascent.

I glanced out the back to see the kid still stood in the centre of the road as we pulled away through the traffic; his body visibly weaker than before. An uncomfortable smile spread itself across my lips.

'Ahh...so she's enjoying the chase at last...'

He was looking at me in the mirror again; studying my wayward expression with a cackle.

'It's exciting, isn't it? Living without _rules_...'

I frowned, stiffening slightly.

'I've been working your back-street deals for the last eighteen months – it's nothing new to me...'

'Ah – but you've never been this close to the action, have you Sammy...?'

'Don't call me that -'

His smile twinkled in the mirror.

'I think you're gonna like what I have in store for us, Sam...I think you're gonna find it – _invigorating_...' He let the wheel spin in his hands as he chuckled gently to himself.

For a second, hope had glimmered in my heart that he had meant _us_ – as husband and wife – _us_, _together_. This hope, however, soon gave-way to the burning realisation that it was strictly business he was speaking of. There was no 'us' anymore; just me and him. Freaks, in a world full of madmen.

We were driving for about twenty minutes: fifteen of which I had been asleep. I was surprised that he had allowed me some time of peace; some time to let my heart regain its normal pace before the next episode of his perfectly-figured plan.

My eyes were hazy and sore when I finally opened them. I could hear my name being repeated; chanted like a mantra.

'Sam...Sam...Sam..._Sam_...**Sam**..._**SAM**_...!'

'_What_?!'

I barked as my conscious slammed back to reality. The Joker had propped himself between the two front seats of the car and was now leering through the middle at me. He grinned.

'We're home, sweet-cheeks...'

I couldn't help but flinch at his sing-song lyrics.

'_Home_...' I snorted at the irony and started unbuckling my seat belt.

'Uh – listen; I got a little, _appointment_ – with some peo_ple_...' He cleared his throat and then clucked; apparently discomfited by the inconvenience '_Soo_...you go in and get settled – I'll only be an hour...'

His tongue glided quickly over his lips whilst he finished with a deft smile.

My blank stare said it all.

'Whatever...'

One of The Joker's cronies had sloped from the alleyway and opened the car door for me.

'I'll see you later – just, don't...fuck anything up...yeah...?' I gave him a tight, pleading smile and went to close the door.

'Wait – Sam...'

I sighed wearily and ducked back in.

'You got a pen?' He mumbled into his sleeve.

My bag was quickly and carelessly raided before I pulled out what I could find.

'No...I got a pencil...'

'Yeah – that'll do...'


	10. Queen of Hearts

I could hear the rain pelting at the bare window as I lay staring at it; my eyes and body aching with exhaustion. I was aware of Jack's arms tightening around me as he shuffled closer, his unshaven cheek grazing my shoulder when he kissed me from behind.

I'd lost my job that afternoon. Not through any fault of my own – no; I was a hard-working and trusted employee in whatever post I took. Unfortunately however, I'd just joined the company at the wrong time: _'Last in, first out'_ they'd said – _'we simply can't afford to pay you'_. Only when I had made my long way home and the front door had closed behind me did I scream out through the hallway:

'_**WHY THE FUCK DID YOU HIRE ME THEN??'**_

I'd only been working there a month.

Jack was still at the hardware store. He'd managed to keep that job for nearly six months now, but we both knew that it wouldn't last: no one wanted an employee who has few prospects, as well as an established mental defect. We were just muddling along – trying to get by with the few dollars we could scrape together each month.

It didn't matter though. It didn't matter because at the end of the day, when we had had our fill of our 1.99 micro-meals, and watched the sun disappear from our scant two-roomed apartment, we could huddle in one another's arms and joke ourselves to sleep.

However tonight, it felt that I just couldn't take anymore rejection. My body seemed to be burning from the inside, out. The bedroom was cold, and our sheets were too thin. The only warmth I got was from Jack's equally-tired body as we lay together in the silence, both drowning in the misery of our situation.

I knew that Jack could feel my tears as they rolled off my cheeks onto his arm; but nevertheless I stifled my heaves and wept as quietly as I could. He hugged me tighter still and drew his fingers through my hair, hushing me gently with his lips.

'It'll be alright, baby...'

My chest throbbed with the strain of holding back a sob. I let his hand slip into mine and squeeze.

'It'll be alright...'

We lay in the sodden peace of the flat for what seemed like hours before either of us spoke again. My sobs were abating and I was now only left with the stinging lethargy of insomnia that we shared. I sighed a gentle breath and sensed his words at my ear.

'I love you...'

A smile floated on my lips as he kissed the nape between my shoulders.

'I love you too...'

I shivered lightly.

'I love you so much...'

My eyes closed against the gentle murmurs as Jack nuzzled into my neck.

'Enough to marry me...?'

For a moment I wasn't too sure I'd heard him speak. The weather was hard against the thin panes of glass and a sleepy frown muddled my features.

'Mm...?'

The bed dipped as he lifted himself from the pillow slightly and paused.

'Marry me...'

I didn't move. I couldn't. My jaw slackened as the words ran through my head and I rolled to see him.

'You really are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen...'

His smile was weak, but it was there.

'Marry me Sam...'

I wanted to cry again.

'How…? Where will we get the money from…?'

'We'll find a way – things like that work themselves out…'

I did start to cry again – with a wrench of total surrender.

'Ok...'

A slack, emotionless stare dented Jack's brow. He just gazed down at me, stroking back a curl of hair. Without a word his lips dropped onto mine and kissed me with such force, such physical strength that my breath halted. I tugged at his hair so he would ease away; smiling that brilliant smile.

'You _must_ be crazy...wanting to take me on...' I smoothed my digits over his cheek before a kiss was laid on my nose, and my tears wiped away.

A long sigh of relief brought Jack's head to rest at the base of my throat.

'Not crazy...just "mildly impulsive"...' He mimicked the doctor's voice and captured my fingers with his lips.

'Whatever – I don't care anymore...as long as you're smiling...'

'With you as my wife, I won't have a choice will I...?' He cackled quietly and brushed my chin with a kiss. 'I'll be grinning my way to Hell...'


	11. Flush

**_ Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews - you all seemed to like the last chapter a lot. I hope to have a bit more of that sentimentality to come, lol, but for now here's the next chapter, and believe me when I say this one has been utter HELL to write. I'm just glad to have it out of the way - I hope you enjoy it though._**

**_Special thanks to the most recent reviewers and especially my regulars: PatrickDempseylover, Vaetra, TombstoneGirl, The Mayor's Daughter, Clan Fraser, Wiilover432 and Belluns. Thank you to everyone who has been reading and everyone who has added the story to their favourites. You're gonna like the end... I hope..._**

**_For now,_**

**_-Sal-_**

* * *

'_YOUR __**GOD-DAMN**__-BLOODY-__**BROTHER**__...!!'_

The shutters raced-up at full pelt and whirled dangerously as they crashed to the top.

I jumped at The Joker's sudden entrance and turned.

'_He's always making things so...__**difficult**__...!!_'

The painted fury punched frantically at the air and kneed one of his mongrel dogs from his path.

'_Get out my bloody way!_'

It yelped and ran to hide under a slanted desk.

I remained seemingly unruffled, but dreaded to ask what had occurred.

'_Posing as __**Batman**__...I __**know**__he's__ not bloody __**Batman**__...!!'_

Realisation dawned and carefully I nodded.

'Not exactly going to plan, then?'

I was offered a sideways glance and so ducked away to continue my scribbling. I could feel him prowling around me, heating my back as he passed backwards and forwards, muttering to himself. It was hard to ignore him, but I'd got reasonably proficient at it by now.

'_Why does he even need to get __**involved**__?! I mean don't these people __understand__ – all they have to do is give up the one-little-masked-crusader and everything will be __**fine**__!'_

My eyebrow raised a little.

'..._mostly fine_...'

The joker dragged his stained fingers through his equally-stained hair.

'_They just-aren't-getting-the message...!'_

A cigarette was extracted from his jacket.

'Ah – don't think you're smoking that round me! It's bad enough being surrounded by gasoline most of the time...'

He gaped in blank disbelief; I think he was beginning to realise exactly what he had taken on in keeping me here. Nonetheless the cigarette was replaced in the pocket, and the pacing recommenced.

It was only when the humming had stopped that I was suddenly aware of him leaning over my shoulder. Slowly I lifted my face him.

'What the hell are you _doing_...?'

The white make-up had worn from around the creases of his forehead, and now only exaggerated the complete loathing with which he scowled.

I paused, running my eyes over the lines of figures.

'Uh...working something...out...?'

It was a request for permission rather than an answer to his question.

'_**What**_...are you working out?' He was tonguing the corner of his mouth irritably – it was obvious he wanted a fight.

'I – uh – I'm working out stuff we might need...for when the baby's born...'

The silence hit my shoulders like a ton of bricks. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes for more than a few seconds, as he stared me down.

'_Sam_...'

I swallowed dryly.

'...yeah...?'

There was a slow blink of patience from him.

'You...' He sighed wearily '...the_**point**_ of you being here – is so that you don't have to worry about things like that...hm?'

He closed my ledger

'You're here so that _**Gotham City**_...and all its _wonderful _inhabitants...will do it for you...ok?'

It was abruptly snatched from the table in front of me and slammed into the concrete wall. I was left with his anger hovering over me.

'Don't be so... _**naive**_ as to think you're going to be the perfect mother to this child – this is all simply another page to my _anarchy_...'

My heart stopped and I felt the stunning blow trickle over my body as he pushed himself away from me.

Had I really been foolish enough to forget that I was all just..._part of his plan?_ Once my part had been played I would be thrown out again; left to wallow in the background and watch my spawn evolve into another terrorist for Gotham to deal with. I'd been so busy indulging the newspapers and the rest of them with stories of trauma and lost love, that I'd come to think it was true; that I was an innocent in all of this.

The sofa behind me sighed as The Joker collapsed onto it, still drowning in absolute repugnance for everything the world had to offer. He had no regard and no sense of how much he had just snatched from me. Even if he did, he wouldn't have cared.

Although the tears danced in my eyes they were forbidden to go any further, and reach the raw skin of my cheeks.

'The television studios are offering me anything they raise through phone-ins...help me along a bit...'

'Of course they are...' He mumbled from under his arm whilst he reclined. 'They always feel the need to help pathetic entities...'

I forced myself to look over my shoulder at him; his now uncoated body lounging across the couch as if it were a psychiatrist's bed. With eyes closed, he wasn't able to see my sneer of utter contempt.

'What if they come looking for me? Someone's gonna follow me one day -'

'_Then we'll cross that bridge when we __**come to it**__...'_

His voice was a snarl of closing intolerance.

There was no point in speaking to him when he was like this; there was nothing anyone could say that would turn his interest back from his brooding temper. I sat and watched him sulk for a few minutes; clicking and tutting, fidgeting from one position to another before finally swinging up in his seat.

'I'm gonna have to get myself caught – taken-in...'

I shot him an incredulous stare.

'_You what?_'

'Get on the inside...get closer to the _action_...' Loosely he tugged on his waistcoat, smartening himself quietly.

'I'm sorry..._what?!_'

'I believe your brother wanted a little chat with me, did he not?'

'I'm not sure it was so much a _chat_ he wanted...'

I had been accosted by Harvey the week before as I had emerged from one of my many interviews. He'd tried to persuade me to go home with him before some _'emergency'_ had pulled him away to the courts. He had to be seen at least _trying_ to help his unfortunate sister – it wouldn't have done much for his image if he hadn't.

That was the first and last time I would be lazy enough to let him catch me. He was soon on the front of every tabloid swearing to catch the maniac that had "shattered his little sister's life". So much for the family bonding now: he hadn't even seen fit to tell me that he had moved to Gotham – I'd found out from his first publicized court case.

'What d'you mean get _caught_...? How're you gonna do that?'

I was following The Joker up the iron stairway that led to the rooms above before he turned on me again.

'And what if something happens to you – what will I do then? Where will I go...?'

'_Sweetheart_...'

I caught the railing just in time.

'..._doll_...d'you remember the times you used to tell me that I _**worried**_ too much...?' He gave me a little reassuring nod.

'Well now..._you're_ worrying too much...and you're getting on my nerves, so please – go and have a sit down and a cup of tea...put your feet up, and just...let me do what I do...ok?'

I'd never seen a sweeter smile than the one he gave me then.

With one last wave of the hand, I was dismissed from his sight; I knew I'd get my orders soon enough. There'd be no way I'd be allowed to sit this one out, despite how much I needed to. It didn't occur to The Joker that even though I was still flatter than most women at this stage, I was still nearly six months pregnant. I had gotten this physical miracle from my mother, who continued doubting that she was pregnant right up until the day I was born.

The silent miming of The Joker's phone call from where I was sitting was almost comical. Almost: but nothing was truly funny anymore. The situation wasn't funny anymore – it had never been funny. My life had no joy in it to complement the anarchy with which I was now involved. The only choice I had was to sit back and go with the flow; the turbulent, white-rapid flow of The Joker's death-defying initiative.

He continued to gesture frantically as I watched through the windows. For a moment he caught my gaze and seemed to hesitate in his conversation, but this was soon fired-up again by whatever the other speaker was reckless enough to say. Before long he was wrestling with the phone and it was chucked at the wall. With a crash the door was flung open and The Joker appeared at the top of the stairs.

'_Guess what honey-doll..._'

My chest heaved with a sigh.

'What?'

He rubbed his hands together eagerly.

'_We're going to jail..._'


	12. Fold

**_Thank you again for all the brilliant reviews - it seems that you're all enjoying it so far. Anyway, here's the next chapter; I'd just like to give a little warning that it is slightly disturbing in some ways, and a bit abstract. It's not excessively violent or anything, just a bit...weird, lol. All will be explained int the next chapter._**

**_Enjoy._**

**_-Sal-_**

* * *

'_You're going to do __**what**__ to Harvey?'_

'_You're worrying agaaain...'_

'_Of course I'm bloody worrying – you're going to blow-up my brother!'_

Our hushed conversation grew more and more frantic as I whispered through the bars of his jail cell. The Joker seemed to be enjoying himself; sat comfortably on a bench opposite me – a smug grin etched into his face.

'_I'm sure Batman might save him...'_

'_**MIGHT?!**__'_

I was awarded with a harsh scowl since I let my voice draw the attention of the attending officers. I half-turned to them and cocked my head in apology.

'Sorry...' I mouthed.

'Miss – if he's not co-operating we can take him into an interview room for you?'

'No, no – it's ok. Just give me a minute and I'll be with you...'

A deep breath and I turned my attention back to him – nearly screaming when I found him towering through the bars.

'Sam – listen to me...d'you really think I'd let your brother get blown-up when there's that _pretty little thing_ the Bat's keen on...?'

I narrowed my eyes warily.

'Yes...'

He hesitated.

'Yeah, I can see why'd you think that..._but I'm not going to!_ There's too much fun to be had with him...!'

My frown darkened as I took-in what he was saying.

'What d'you mean?'

The Joker edged closer, his clammy palms wrapping themselves around mine as I gripped the bars.

'The thing about madness, Sam...it's like gravity...all it takes is a little _push_...'

Somewhere in the background I heard the heavy prison doors clanking open, but still my eyes were concentrated on him.

'What're you gonna do...?'

The Joker leant his bruised forehead against the bars and gazed down on me.

'_I'm gonna push him...'_

Our conversation was cut-short and my mind drawn away as the police chief appeared from around the corner.

'Why is she in here?! I thought I told you the shrinks were to be kept back until the interview was over?!'

One of the uniforms took my arm, muttering apologies to Gordon and dragging me away from the cage. My eyes, however, stayed on the convicted.

As I remained skulking in the background, listening to the sickly banter of Gotham's finest, I was the only one who didn't applaud the newly appointed Commissioner; I was too occupied with The Joker's eloquent glance in my direction – one that no one else would see.

* * *

The cold prickled over my skin as I hunched in the corner of the bare concrete room, waiting for the second coming. All but a fixed metal table and comparable chairs had been stripped from the glorified torture chamber. It was decorated in a charming beige coat and had the grand total of one window – two-way. The only thing that could better it would be the customary flickering light...

Ha ha ha...the migraine was thus complete.

I lolled in my chair as the interview rumbled on. I had been witness to the strip and search – he had enjoyed every moment of that. Not because it was some sort of gratification for him; he didn't have such simple taste. No; he had enjoyed it because _they_ had not – he had had complete and unyielding power, despite being stripped of his dignity and made to stand naked under a freezing shower. They certainly hadn't laughed at him.

'Not even my _wife_ got me to do things like that...' The Joker chuckled with devilish rebuke as they led him into the room. 'No matter how much I begged...'

The psychiatrist that I had been paired with let the comment breeze over her as she arranged papers on the table. The officer who was handcuffing him in place however, made the mistake of speaking.

'Can't really blame the braud...'

My hands were trembling as I itched at the wig, carefully re-adjusting it. I only looked up to see what caused the grunt of panic.

'_You want me to show you how I got these scars...?'_ He held the officer down by the handcuffs, nails sinking into the cops wrists.

'The prisoner will let go before he is re-isolated...'

The older woman eyed him steadily over her glasses, waiting for him to release the attendant. The Joker blinked his gaze towards her.

'Ha ha...' His tongue ran over unpainted lips '...the prisoner _will_...' He relaxed his grip and smiled.

I watched the guard back out, clearly shaken but refusing to show it. My lips twitched at the corners, daring me to smile.

'This is Dr Ford, I am Dr Beech; you understand why you are here?'

A pencil was held in readiness over a piece of file paper as the psychiatrist shuffled forward on her seat. My smile was stolen by the man now clad in a white polyester jump-suit.

'I can do a trick with a pencil...want me to show you...?'

'Do you understand why you are here?'

The edges of my mouth were cracking from the layers of make-up I had applied. With thick black eye-liner and lightning-blonde wig, I was barely recognisable even to myself.

'I – want my phone call...I want it... I want my phone call...'

The Joker jangled the metal cuffs against his chair as he played with them absently.

'You can have your phone call; right after you've answered a few of our questions.'

He caught my eyes briefly, before straightening himself in the chair.

'Do you understand why you are here?'

'_Oh god_ – _yess...!_' He rolled his eyes impatiently. 'Because of that Dent guy...'

The shrink watched calmly as he shifted on the seat.

'You wanna know – why I did it, right?'

'We could start there, yes.'

There was a calculated pause, before his eyes narrowed on her.

'Is that where _you_ want to start?'

'If you'd like to, yes.'

'_No_...that's not what I asked...'

I watched his tongue flick over his lips again.

'_Is that where __**you**__ want to start...?_'

My 'colleague' moved a strand of hair, seemingly unnerved.

'Yes...'

She was rewarded with a grin.

'Ok – but let me tell you about something else, first...'

'And what would that be?' She sighed.

With eyes cast down, The Joker loosened his jaw, and smirked.

'You're just dying to find out how I got these scars, am I right?'

My body had started to crawl with panic.

'I bet you just can't figure how a guy like me, had such a normal life once...but I did – I did...'

He hooked an elbow on the table casually, preparing for his tale.

Uncrossing and re-crossing my legs, I tried to make my discomfort clear to him, yet – of course – he continued steadfast.

I'd heard him tell many a story before, but now, the threat that he might speak the truth scared me. It was my hope that he'd forgotten it – left it behind with Jack's psyche: apparently not. Perhaps then it was I who had left one mind, for another.

'My wife – y'know, the pretty little thing spread across all the papers today? Well she was something else when we first got together – _my god_ was she _beautiful!_'

It took me a while to swallow away the dryness in my throat as I tried to hide in whatever I was meant to be writing.

'I would have done anything for her – _anything..._buuut she didn't realise that...'

His voice gave way to an eerie little chuckle.

'No-no no no no – she thought that she had to _pleeease me_ by keeping us both; earning the money...I tried to tell her _"Sam-" _I'd say, _"Sam; you're job isn't to __keep me_ _– you should be at home, letting __me__ earn the money..."_

Here he broke off, apparently trying to remember how our little arguments had been played-out. My fingers were struggling to hold the pen over the lines of blank paper on my lap. Nausea seethed within me, making me fidget; desperate to get out from this suffocating room.

'Sufficed to say she didn't listen...aaand in the end – resorted to _deals with the mob_...'

He sucked at his lip, eyes rising again to the silent shrink.

'This is where it gets interesting – sooo, you might wanna listen up...'

Quietly he leant into her.

'One night she comes home...covered in blood. Not just from her face though, where she had been slashed...that was bad enough...'

His eyes rolled onto mine.

'...but from places I just couldn't make out...not at first...'

Tears were hitting my clipboard as I gazed unguarded at my husband, sitting in the metal chair opposite.

'...when she told me she had been pregnant... it was _pretty much_ the last straw...'

Bullets of my mind were striking through age-old memories and hitting me full-force in the chest. Memories that I had thought were dreams; nightmares. Never had I believed that they were true. I had pushed these thoughts of the past away and ignored any hint that they might be real. Until today, I was confident that they weren't.

'...as I left my wife lying in the arms of a nurse I had never met before, her face carved like this...and screaming in agony from our unborn child...I could only think of one way to make things better again – one way that we would always be happy...'

Somewhere in the distance I was aware that several pairs of eyes would be concentrated on me, as I sat and cried unyielding tears in front of a high-security prisoner: nevertheless, I just couldn't stop them.

'I stuck a razor in my mouth and did this...to myself...and so now – I'm _always smiling_ – now, I _always see the funny side_!'

He threw his head back and howled with insanity.

'_Great story, right?_'

The Joker eased back in his seat and returned the psychiatrist's avid gaze.

'We should do this again sometime...'

It seemed to take a while for her to blink and refocus. When she did, and she spoke, her voice was somewhat less clear.

'Would you care to share more?'

I could make out the clatter of doors being unlocked from outside this room. The Joker sucked at his teeth and craned his head to look at the Doctor's watch.

'Not right now...'

Dragging a white sleeve across my face I not only removed the tears from my blotched cheeks, but the make-up and foundation, too.

'I don't have time right now...'

'What d'you mean, you don't have time?'

I removed the mobile from my pocket just as the door to the previous metal gates was being unlocked.

'I need to make that phone call...'


	13. Patience

**_AND HERE - WE... GO..._**

* * *

_It was a Thursday…_

_Yeah – it must have been – a Thursday…_

_You thought I was at work…I was – just not where you assumed…_

_I found out I was pregnant six weeks ago, but I hadn't told you yet…I knew you'd want to keep it; you'd beg me, and you'd plead, and you'd win – you always do…but I didn't know whether I wanted to go through with it – did I want it? I hadn't decided yet. We were barely surviving on our own – we couldn't afford any more mouths to feed. _

_And of course – there was always the possibility it might turn out…like you…like – you were…there would be no way I could cope…I couldn't cope with that – I don't think I could – I don't know – I just can't – imagine…_

_I'm sitting on a padded chair – was…sitting on a padded chair – in the lobby of a bank. _

_I felt sick. _

_The idea that it was morning sickness just made me feel even worse – the reminder that I was pregnant ripped up my stomach._

_I wretched when the secretary turned away to look-up my file._

_She came back to me with a frown._

_"No…no Sarah Heathcliff, I'm afraid – would you mind spelling it for me?'_

_My leg would hit the desk if I didn't stop bouncing it._

_'Mm…S-a…'_

_'No, no – sorry – your second name…'_

_The phlegm thickened in my throat as I began to speak again…It clogged my windpipe and I coughed._

_'Are you alright Miss? Would you like some water?'_

_'No – my name: H-e-…it's spelt H-e-a-t-h…'_

_She was asking for documents. I needed documents. _

_The zip was stuck on my bag – I couldn't open it. I pulled it and the tie came-off._

_'Shit…'_

_My finger was bleeding._

_'Here -'_

_I snatched the offered tissue_

_'Thank you…'_

_If I wedged my thumb under the fastening I could drag it open._

_'All we need is a driving license or passport…'_

_I threw both onto the table. The cold metal of the gun pressed itself against my other hand inside the bag._

_'And your original bank card – if I could see that…'_

_My purse lay open on the table: credit cards, notes, photo…driving license…_

_'Miss?'_

_My other driving license._

_'You have two…'_

_The chair collapses as I wrench to my feet._

_It clatters and echoes around the lobby; a hundred faces turning to look at me._

_I'm backing away: my purse, cards – photo of us – still on the table._

_'If you could just wait Miss…'_

_More pieces fall out of my bag_

_And the gun._

_The picture freezes._

_My heart is beating in the silence; until the alarm sounds._

_'I'm sorry – I've got to go...'_

* * *

_The squealing seems to be coming from afar – even though it's pouring from my own mouth._

_'__**You stupid bitch...!**__'_

_Material slips through my sweaty grasp – I feel my nails bending backwards; one of them rips off completely as I grapple with the shirt he's wearing: I'm trying to find something to pull – something to tear and break his concentration from my face. _

_My hands reached for his eyes as they blistered my skin. I'm scratching, whining – trying to fight back. I caught his jaw, so he smacked the back of his fist across mine._

_'__**What the fuck's the matter with you?! Do you want me to **__**kill**__** you?!'**_

_My sobs came hard and fast and I could feel the phlegm on my chin as I coughed it up. _

_Sorry, I was saying...sorry; pleading with him to let go of my face. I was begging him to stop squeezing the jugular at the top of my throat – the pressure made my head swim and sink._

_'__**Just – shut the fuck up!**__'_

_I was yanked forward: like a lifeless animal I was shaken and pushed further into the lane that was crowded with the family of mobsters._

_'__**Women are so **__**ugly**__** when they cry...women should **__**never**__** cry...'**_

_The playing card made a ripping noise as it was flipped from his pocket. He twiddled it in his fingers so that his boys could see it._

_'__**We have a little trick that can solve this problem...**__'_

_Their cackles shuddered through my body like a fit. The next breath I tried to inhale snagged in my throat and halted my wailing for a second, before I heaved a silent plea._

_'Don't...please...'_

_He's smiling...he's smiling at me as he stops. A sly cock of the head and a smile._

_'**Don't...? Don't what, Sammy...?'**_

_It slices the corner of my mouth as he shoves the card as far as he can against my squirming tongue._

_'__**Shh sh sh sh...it doesn't work if you scream...**__'_

_My whimpering is pleasing him._

_'__**Now if we time this just right – you should have the perfect smile on your pretty little face...**__'_

_I'm panting furiously – desperate to get some air into my lungs._

_Before I can think any further...knives are digging into my skin. Another card is slotted into my mouth – then another, and another. My jaw aches as it's forced wider._

_A twinkle of silver catches my eye._

_It slots into my mouth between the cards and my cheek._

_My screech is cut off by a punch to the stomach, and I'm left winded._

_I manage to brace myself against the wall._

_But then it cuts._

_It slices._

_And it rips._

_I sigh as the tendons snap away from each other; I can feel the muscles parting. I'm not even crying anymore, just letting the white pain seethe through my skull._

_I only begin jerking again when the knife slips through the other side, matching the two up._

_'__**And now you're smiling...**__'_

_The blood trickled from my tongue, ran down my chin and dribbled onto my torn shirt. It tasted liked money...that coppery taste a coin had is you press it to your lips._

_I just stared through him blindly. I wasn't being very grateful._

_'__**WELL THANK ME THEN!!**__'_

_The first strike doubled-me up, the second knocked me to the floor – and I wouldn't even make a noise._

_But it was the fifth or sixth that brought it all rushing through to my eyes..._

_And I screamed._

_I screeched._

_I bawled._

_And my grin tore wider...higher on my cheeks..._

_I wanted that baby..._

_**I wanted that God damn baby**__**...!!**_


	14. Two of a Kind

_**I knew something was wrong when you weren't at home when I got back. You were always at home by four: always.**_

_**The crash of the door against the wall didn't make me jump. **_

_**I just turned to it slowly and expected the worst – **__**ha ha**__** – boy, did I get that...!**_

_**You were the heaviest thing in the world when I picked you up off the floor. No, you're right: I dragged you first until I got the door shut. You were face-down so I couldn't see anything but the filth and grease on the back of your blouse, but when my hand slid under your neck...I knew...**__**I just – bloody – knew...**_

_**I wanted to piece you back together. I wanted you to open your **__**damn**__** eyes for a start! But when I tried to open them for you...they just rolled back in your head. **_

_**You looked like a puppet – hm hm hm...**__**a doll...a rag-doll that had been played with too much...**__**you'd been playing with other people, Sam!**__** Tt-tt...you'd been playing with other people...**_

_**When you did wake-up you were sick on me...**__**heh**__**...all down my shirt. Then you said you were sorry...And y'know what I did? **__**I laughed! Ha ha ha!! I fucking laughed and you were **__**bleeding**__**...! Blood was just coming – from – **__**everywhere**__**! **_

_**I didn't know what to do. I tried to call the police, but you wouldn't let me. I then said the ambulance and you started screaming – I couldn't understand what you were saying! **_

_**I called Charlie even though you didn't want me too...but **__**I**__** couldn't do anything – **__**nothing**__** - I could do **__**nothing**__**...**_

_**I'd managed to undress you and – and clean you up...you let me do that...but then you just stared at the ceiling as I got the wet towel and held it over your face. **_

_**I laid next to you on the bed and traced your features. You were **__**so quiet...**__**At one point I thought you were dead – **__**mm hmm**__** – but you breathed when I kissed your forehead and you looked at me with those sad, desperate eyes. **_

_**I'd never seen those eyes before – even when things were bad; really, really **__**bad**__**...you still had a smile in your eyes. Now they were just – **__**empty**__**...and **__**cold**__**...**_

_**And then you said it**__**...**__**oh hoh!**__** – You said those words to me, Sam, that I will **__**never**__** forget.**_

_**Why?! Why didn't you tell me?!**_

_**We could've talked!**_

_**We could've made a decision together!**_

_**Buuut – no...no, no – you let me think things were ok. Made me think – **__**we, were ok...**_

_**We weren't though, were we Sam? We were far from ok. **_

_**I'm pretty sure that's the day I gave-in, y'know? I was hacking it **__**riiight**__** up until you told me, that you didn't want our baby – a baby, you now say – that could've **__**turned out like me-ee!**_

_**Nice to know it wasn't anything personal, doll!**_

_**Aaand-ha-ha!! Your face; when I came back...**__**oh ho ho**__** – after that weekend!**_

_**You weren't as pleased as I thought you'd be! I was so **__**sure**__** you'd see the funny-side when I showed you my own little experiment! **_

_**You still didn't smile! **_

_**Well...not **__**really**__**...**_

_**But you see the funny-side now, don't you Sam?**_

_**You can see that what I did...it was all for you...**_

_**Don't cry, sweet-cheeks – shh sh – don't cry...!**_

_**You can smile now.**_

_**You can smile for the both of us because we're gonna try again! We're gonna have that baby, and we're gonna do it together, in all our glory!**_

_**You and me: we're two-of-a-kind, honey-doll –**_

_**We're two-of-a-kind...**_

* * *

_I was so weary from crying. _

_Even as The Joker patted my knee and gave me a reassuring nudge, I couldn't help but struggle for breath after tears._

_He stood up and walked away from me; his shirt reflecting what little light there was in our pit._

_'Do...you really hate me, that much...?'_

_My chest was in spasm as I held back the sobs. The tissue I'd been gripping in shaking hands was sodden and torn, but I scraped it across my face anyway._

_'I don't hate you, Sam...'_

_The shadow absently scuffed the souls of his shoes across the dusty warehouse floor._

_'Why then, did you have to drag all this back-up...make me remember it all again...?'_

_A green tint in his hair shimmered as he turned his face to me slightly._

_'...makes a good story...' He shrugged and delicately adjusted his waistcoat._

_The smile stung my face as I gazed on, stunned at his idleness._

_'What...? What d'you mean __"a good story"__?! Are you really so senseless that you can brush it away as __"a good story"__...?!'_

_'Dohhh Sam! Don't you get it yet?!' _

_His arms swiped the air as he started towards me again._

_'Life – is just one big game! It will only __be__, what you __force it to be__...! Those people out there are __bored!__ They're fed-up of living in their boring little houses, in a boring little city, surrounded by boring little people...! We are the only ones – who can __**liven**__ things up for them!!'_

Our eyes met when he finally hunkered to my level.

He paused, before smoothing back a piece of hair from my face

'You need to start learning, how to play the game, Sam...'

His fingers were soft as he tilted my chin.

'You have the winning hand, doll – _you_ have the wild card...'


	15. Jack: Card High

**_Again, thank you everyone for reading and reviewing! You're all really kind. Out of interest did anyone notice in the last chapter the dedication to the man behind the make-up? I tried to make it subtle _**

**_Just a quick caution in this chapter: contains mild sexual imagery. Nothing spectacular but I don't want to get told-off since I only rated this a 'T'..._**

**_Anyways, hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think ;)_**

**_-Sal-_**

* * *

The nearly-warm water dribbled over every inch of my body, calming every muscle and soothing the tender flesh. My face ached. My stomach ached. My head and neck and back ached.

I watched the trails of soap meander over my skin, swirling along the contours of my abdomen. I neither looked, nor felt, seven months pregnant, and slowly the doubt had begun to set-in. Only when I visited the doctors was I assured otherwise.

The over-washed, barely-strung towel left my skin feeling raw, and the robe that I had discovered amongst The Joker's hoard of rags and riches was just as uncomfortable. Still – it was warm, and big enough to wrap around me several times.

I padded out of the linoleum washroom; my feet eventually finding thin carpet as my wander took me towards a chair. I had no plans for tonight; but then again, I had no plans for the rest of my life, either.

A tattered newspaper lay open on the side when I reached the 'living' area – headlines screaming my husband's latest triumph:

"_**GOTHAM'S D.A. LIFE THREATENED: JOKER KILLS GIRLFRIEND"**_

I pulled the robe tighter over my bare chest. He had kept his promise: Harvey was spared, but whether he wanted to live now or not who could say? I certainly wouldn't if the person I loved was gone: ripped away from me and murdered…

'So – what d'you think…?'

That gushing voice still coated my body with nausea. I hesitated; hovering over the broadsheet; not really knowing what to say.

'You think they got the message yet?'

A cackle rumbled from his lips as the chafing of paper on plastic continued. I heard him blow hard on something, and then followed a slight, considering pause. When I turned I found him surrounded by pieces of metal, wire, lint and tape; plastic shavings littering the murky carpet underneath a fresh layer of sand and dust. With tie removed and sleeves rolled-up – he'd insisted on retrieving his precious suit before we fled the station – he was now fashioning a new device from something I couldn't quite make out.

'I think they got the message...'

I found the chair and lowered myself into it, vaguely following his deliberate moves as he cut and fixed; holding the bits one way and then another.

'I think the whole of Gotham got your message...'

Realisation dawned on me that the white noise which interfered in the background was in fact music: Johnny Cash's 'Cocaine Blues' to be exact…one of Jack's favourites.

He lifted the piece up to the watery lamplight, studying it, before removing the knife from its wedge between his lips.

'Y'know...your brother is a tough one to crack...'

He jabbed a lose part with the knife, not bothering to look up at me.

'_My sources say_ – that he's still hanging onto that "_White Knight"_ image for dear life…Gotham's hero..._ha ha ha!_...we'll see about that…'

I curled my feet up underneath me as I sat watching his contented little actions. A child with a new toy would not be so engrossed as he was now. He fiddled with a piece he was clearly unhappy with, before it was removed and discarded onto the floor.

'I wonder how much of a hero he'll be after all this...'

My sigh cleared any hint of sadness that may have been lurking in my throat. All the energy I had went into the tired, heavy blink I gave him, and quietly I pulled the sleeves down on my robe. I just wanted to sleep for a very long time.

The rudimentary device was finally dropped onto the table, half-complete. My eyes opened only to connect with two, seemingly empty sockets.

'_Maybe he'll see the funny side now...?'_

I could do nothing but stare into his chalk-white visage. The fixed-smile had been slashed across his face once again, intensifying the overall terrorising-effect: his real grin hidden behind the entire façade. Only when he dipped his head with incitement did I manage to catch a glimpse of those ever-changing eyes; sometimes green, sometimes black as the devil's own. They caught the light and danced in joviality.

'Have you been thinking about what I said?'

The Joker stood; heavy in his loping steps towards me. It was strange to see him dressed-down in such a uniform, as if off-duty – between takes in some fucked-up film.

It suited him.

I found myself considering him; the easiness of his taut figure against the dull warehouse light as he approached the chair in which I huddled. I only answered when he came to a stop in front of me, waiting.

Slowly I nodded.

'I've thought about it…'

'And…?'

Slicked hair fell either side of his firm jaw.

'You're right…I'm ready to play…'

His skewed grin reached higher.

'Good girl.'

The Joker winked, a finger gently tracing the puckered skin of my cheek; smudges of white grease trailing after. I hadn't realised I was speaking until halfway through my next sentence, when, whatever I had said, made the fool stop in his tracks. He seemed to slacken under the gaudy shirt that clothed his broad back.

'I've had a little thought of my own though, honey…'

I uncurled and rose to my feet; an involuntary shiver dancing up my spine as I touched the cold floor. My voice – wasn't mine. It hurt to talk; the words merely falling from my mouth with a slow mumble.

'This message of yours…it really needs to reach further, don'cha think?'

Still he lagged; his face half obscured by shadow, patience straightening his brow.

'We need to make a statement – we need to force them to listen…'

The Joker reeled round, standing to his full height as he eyed me steadily. He spared me a guttural affirmation.

'Mm…'

'I can _guarantee_ you, that every other person in this city will have someone they know – someone the _love_ – in one of Gotham's hospitals…'

I felt him tense as I approached; his sloping shoulders firm and unyielding.

'If you threaten one of them…for instance, the one which now holds the city's star DA…you may find yourself – on a winning streak…'

My fingers traced the soft material of his shirt, its texture tempting my palms to ease their way upwards, over his chest. Still he didn't move, and appeared almost bemused as I edged closer.

'When you say _threaten_...'

His voice was barely audible.

'Mm...?'

'You mean _explode_...right?'

I gave him a sickly, enticing little giggle and lifted my face towards his.

'If you like...'

The Joker's hands hovered over the bare skin that was left exposed by the robe.

'And what brought this to your...once so _rational_ mind...?'

My fingers now teased the buttons on his shirt, urging him to lean in and brush away a lock of hair. A kiss was placed briefly on my lips, before he pulled away again, appreciating every inch of my face.

'I just thought to myself: _"What would Jack do?"_...'

Before his lips met mine again, all advances were halted. I felt his jowls stiffen, his muscles tighten and his hackles rise on his neck. With a sigh of exaggeration, his eyes closed.

'_What have I told you about using that name...?'_

'I thought...what would I give, for one last night with my husband before it all ends...?'

He sucked at the inside of his cheek, suppressing a smirk of total ferocity.

'_Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam...'_

I watched his unblinking glare, his face still close to mine.

'My husband: _Jack Napier_...'

The shock of his fist wrapping itself completely around my neck nearly threw me off balance. I took a step backwards and steadied myself against his suffocating grasp, bringing him with me. The Joker's body shuddered with absolute fury.

'_**You can't have him...Your husband is **__**dead**__**...!!'**_

His breath escaped through gritted teeth as he hung over me, his fingers tight on my throat.

'_If you want me...you have __**me**__...'_

The last of the air left my body as I chuckled in his greased-up face. His hold slackened, a thumb running along the nape of my collar. Slowly I took his neck and brought him closer; close enough so that he could hear my dark whispers.

'_But then I thought; why settle for the Jack...when you can have the Ace...?'_

I saw his eyes sparkle for just a second, before his split maw gradually broke into a grin.

'Y'know doll...'

He pulled me firmly against his body with a lick of the chops.

'You really are something else...'

My lips were securely moulded onto his as he kissed me. I staggered as his strength forced me backwards; his once threatening grip now drawing me harder against him. The fullness of his form towered over me as he pressed on, working my lips tenderly.

I tore away for a mere second, taking my palm and dragging it across his mouth. The oily paint left my fingers stained blood-red as I pulled him back to my grasp; his own clutches pushing away the towelling from my shoulders.

With the last of his effort, The Joker mumbled into my kiss the only words I would let him, before we finally hit the deck.

'_Tomorrow...tomorrow we act...and we prime Gotham General...'_


	16. Final Hand

**_This is NOT the last chapter! There is still a little bit more to come, so please, keep checking back. Catuion in this chapter also: use of strong words. _**

**_I hope you all enjoy, and thank you SO much for reviewing everyone! I can't believe how many of you are adding it to your alerts lists either! Thank you! :D_**

**_-Sal-_**

* * *

The car was warm and humid, even with the air conditioning chucking out cold air. I adjusted the restriction of my costume and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the sun visor.

War paint, make-up, artwork – whatever you want to call it: I was still The Joker's decorated doll. Wrapped in his bed sheet – like that sainted first night together – he'd sat me in front of the cracked and broken mirror and tenderly applied the thick white paint. It had been the first time I'd seen him smile – I mean really _smile_ – without hiding any ferocity or malice behind his grin. The kohl was soft as he had traced a thick black band over my eyes, followed by two, delicate teardrops chasing down my cheeks. With his tongue grazing the skin of my neck, he had watched me paint my own lips a dark crimson; the care with which I did so suggesting an almost ritualistic rite.

I flinched as I felt his hand ease over my thigh. The Joker's gaze was heavy as it considered the thin material barely covering my body; the contrasting black on red casting circles on his own tinted disguise.

'_You look good enough to eat...'_

His growl was low and coy, making me cringe in discomfort.

'I feel like a slag...'

A gush of laughter reeled from the split between his scars

'...a _fat_ slag...'

His eyes returned to the long dark road; the droll smile wavering on his face.

We remained in the drifting languid silence of the car; no one wanting or daring to speak. The green digital clock on the dash flicked over so that it read 23:42.

'You really think he's coming, boss?'

Impatience devoured The Joker's face with unexpected viciousness, snapping round on the henchman.

'_Of course he's bloody coming! He's been dying for this opportunity to face me one-on-one… '_

The laughter erupted again as he drummed on the steering wheel.

'Surely if he was gonna take off that damn mask; he'd have done it by now?'

'Well that's what you'd think, wouldn't you? The only problem is...he's enjoying himself to much...'

I chuckled, laying my head back and listening to his dark mumble.

'...he doesn't want to admit to himself just how alike we really are…I – _complete_ him, and we're just destined to do this forever. Y'know why...?'

He caught my glance as it darkened to a questioning frown.

'He won't ever kill me...'

'How can you be so sure?'

His soft-leather thumb wiped away a smudge on my chin.

'I'm just too much fun, sweetheart...'

The yarn had no effect on me; I had already looked up to see the looming black face at the window.

'_**JESUS-FUCKING-CHRIST...!!'**_

The driver's door was brutally wrenched from its hinges and thrown across the carriageway before The Joker was hurled after it. It was the crack of his skull against the concrete that woke me up to what was happening.

'_It's the fucking Bat...!!'_

Both of the masked henchmen scrabbled from the backseat of the SUV with guns half-cocked. I heard a few shots fire from the car behind before a body slammed onto the roof. I could see the back of the man's skull bleeding through; puddles of bloody tissue gathering in the corners of the sunroof.

Batman hauled The Joker up onto his feet. The heavy-duty gloves grasped his rival's throat, shoving him back against the stanchion of the bridge, leaving him no time to regain composure.

'_Ah – you made it…!'_

With a fist wheeling round on him, the painted clown gave a howl of wild mirth before he was clouted to the ground again.

'**Why d'you bring me here, Joker?!****'**

From my angle behind the dash I could see the creases of The Joker's face running with wet chalk. I threw myself across the seat and out into the un-breathable air of the tunnel. I grabbed the automatic from the floor and sprinted to the second Hummer.

'_Get out the fucking car, you bastards! He's gonna kill him!!'_

The two mobsters turned to one another, the plastic masks muffling their drawn accents.

'_If you're so bothered, you fucking help him bitch!!'_

I was shoved out the way and tripped backwards, landing heavily on the base of my spine. With a fleeting pain my body arched, before I forced myself to roll over and scramble onto my feet.

The Joker's eyes flickered in my direction; his guard momentarily down as he saw my collapse.

'**Answer me Joker! You brought me here – what do you want?!****'**

Choking with the strain of being heaved up once more; The Joker shuffled himself into Batman's grasp.

'_I wanted to see what you'd do; and you didn't disappoint! You let – five people die...and then, you let Harvey Dent take your place...even to a guy like me, that's __**cold**__...'_

He managed a breathless giggle as he pulled down on the Bat's arm. Without warning, he was landed another blow, sending him twirling to the floor in a writhe of laughter.

'**You've had your fun – why threaten a hospital?!****'**

The Joker squirmed on the ground with hysterics, edging backwards from the ever-encroaching Bat.

'_Ha ha ha! I had help with that actually!'_

He was swiftly rewarded with a resounding thwack, doubling him up into a ball.

The gun that I had been trying to arm finally clicked itself into position. I'd handled weapons for years; Jack having trained me in their use and form: but now, this black light-weight I held in my palm seemed the most alien thing in the world.

I jammed another magazine into my skin-tight pants and hunkered towards the rear of the car.

Recovering from one last kick, The Joker grunted and lifted his face from the ground; a hand wiping the bloody spittle from his mouth. Batman flung his prey onto his back.

'**Killing everybody in the hospital won't prove anything...****'**

'_Oh ho ho – you are __**SO**__, so wrong! It will prove...__**everything!**__ It will prove – who YOU are, for a start...'_

He was struggling for breath; it was obvious from the way he slithered across the ground that at least one of his ribs were broken. It was only the weak, darting glance that he shot me which kept me hidden and at bay. He wanted me to wait until he was ready...he wanted first to make his point.

'_...it will prove how strong, Harvey Dent __**really**__ is...'_

My legs refused to wait any longer. They uncoiled beneath me and launched me to my feet. Gun by my side, I started towards the fray.

'_...you think he'll be up to his "White Knight" image now...? Or perhaps, something else might be a little more appropriate? Talking of Harvey...have you met my wife?'_

My hand raised the 9mm far too steadily, and held it tight to the Bat's neck.

'_Drop the clown...'_

Gradually the Batman turned to view me in all my glory, leaving The Joker's battered form to struggle away.

'_All we want – is to see who you are...'_

I followed his move to one side, keeping a clear four foot between us.

'**You don't have to do this Samantha – think of your baby...****'**

'_HA HA HA!!'_

The wrenching laughter drooling from my mouth was enough to scare even me. I kept the gun trained on the rubber mask.

'_Like you care about this kid! If it were up to you, we'd all be locked up in Arkham, like one big happy family!!'_

I was aware of The Joker climbing to his feet, the last bit of strength being used to search inside his coat.

'**You can stop this now – save these people and you won't go down with him...****'**

My head was shaking; the blur of purple in the background rising further in its stance.

'_No...no it's too late for all of that; only you can save these people now – are you really gonna be responsible for the deaths of thousands?'_

I backed up slightly, waving the barrel gently as I did so.

'_Just take off that little mask of yours, and it'll aaalll be over...'_

A car engine on top of the bridge resonated through our silence below; the twitch of rubber against padding building as the crusader considered the removal of his facade.

The silhouette expanded around the Bat. My heart stung as it rose to an ear-piercing wail, ready to see him fall, and then stopped, cutting off all sound as Batman swung his rising elbow to meet his stalker.

The Joker's head jolted back with the force of being struck. An exerted grunt juddered from his body, leaving him open to have his arm restrained, snapped back, and the gun thrown from his grasp.

But not before the trigger jerked into life.

The shot rang out and skittered through the tunnel, leaving dead silence in its wake.

A searing pain hit my chest as if someone had reached in and grabbed my spine from the front. I stood for what seemed like minutes, until my knees buckled, and I was left only to crumple neatly to the floor.

I know I hit the road backwards, but for some reason it was the front of my head that took the blow. The breath left my body in its totality as the air above me swirled grey, green and black; my limbs weighted like lead; my flesh crawling with needling shudders.

And the muffled screaming of The Joker's cry came racing through into my being.

'_**SAAAAMMM...!!**__**'**_

_Jack lifted the girl off of the carpet, dragging her heaving body as far as he could before slamming the front door closed._

'_Sam?! Sam – baby, can you hear me?!'_

_He pulled her onto the bed with him as she flung her arms out in sudden fear._

'_**No! Please – don't – leave me...leave me alone!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!'**_

_She refused to let him touch her; thrashing one way and then the other, beating her fists against his chest, his shoulders, his neck – as he tried to restrain her._

'_Oh – Jesus Christ – Sam...what the fuck happened...?!'_

'_Get off me – please, just leave me alone – don't fucking __**look at me...!!**__'_

_Finally he pinned her arms to her sides long enough to see where the rips began. Nothing but blood painted her face below eye level. He wiped a palm across her eyes as she screamed from the immeasurable pain. His fingers caught the loose flesh of her cheek, peeling back clean tissue._

'_Oh – my god...'_

_The breath stuck in his throat and he gagged._

'_Sam...what happened...?'_

_With one last thrash she loosed her arms and collapsed back into the blood-stained sheets; leaving her husband hunched over her in the chilly silence, alone._

'_**SAAAAMMM...!!**__**'**_

The Joker tripped and skidded along the concrete as he lifted from the floor, ripping the shirt and grazing his elbows as he fell. Again he wrenched himself to his feet, the entire right-hand side of his body causing him to gasp in putrid agony.

Once at Sam's side he let himself concertina to the floor beside her, tearing off his gloves and moving to examine her chest.

'_Sam?! Sam – baby, can you hear me?!'_

He slipped one hand under her head and raised her face towards him. He could see her eyes were open, though nothing but the whites looked back at him. With bloodied fingers he removed the strands of captured hair from her cheek, before taking his sleeve and smearing away the paint he'd adorned her with.

'_Baby, please – come on – talk to me...'_

His voice cracked under the strain of holding back an indefinite sob. He could hear the feeble words reverberating around him; shooting him in the back from each and every stone pillar. Still he kept the avid gaze on his wife's lifeless features.

'_Sam...please, Sam...'_

Beaded white tears ran along the high cheek bones of his once-beautiful face. They caught the edges of his scars and chased them down to his mouth; his tongue running his over his lips, tasting salt upon dry flesh.

Sam's bulk stiffened against her husband's fervent caress, when her hand suddenly reached out to grasp his blood-stained shirt. A weak moan dribbled from her lips, her eyes flickering and then dulling to a muted grey.

The Joker looked up to where the Bat had once stood, only to find the spot empty and cold. He bared gritted teeth and yelled at nothing but the vision of what had just happened; what he had just done.

Sitting back on his heels he slid her body into his lap and held the girl to his chest; the warmth of her blood soaking through onto his freezing skin caused hair to prickle upwards. He brought her forehead to his and pressed his eyes shut, forcing back the urge to sob. He laid a gentle kiss on her nose and rocked her carefully, positive that she was still breathing.

His fingers ran across the dark flash emblazoning her harlequin's suit. Blinded by tears he lifted his face to find her gazing back at him weakly. A tiny, stunted sigh escaped his lips, and with a soft brush of her hair, he brought her closer.

'_Jack...'_

A peaceful smile gilded his lips as he linked their fingers together.

'I'm here, baby...I'm here...'


	17. Reshuffle

The doors of the hospital doubled-open and shattered back onto the polished-tile walls with a heart-stopping crack.

A huddle of stragglers still being ushered from the lobby began a shrill, incessant squealing, only to disperse and flee when a splatter of gunfire signalled The Joker's entrance.

The painted angel followed in the wake of five henchmen as they piled through the door, his arms full with the load of his wife's motionless body. Letting his masked-clowns drive every shirker from his path he continued unbroken in his stride, mind aching with an invisible fear; his unwavering glower concentrating on the miles of disinfected hallway that stretched out before him.

His footsteps were steady and unchanging in their beat as they echoed through the thick sterile air, his full-length crombie flowing behind with the momentum. The Joker eyed every room as he passed, noting that none of them contained the things that she needed. Finally his shoes slid to a halt, almost missing the large private ward. Brutally kicking the doors open, he marched through and gently placed Sam's wilting body onto the bed.

He could hear the henchmen following in the distance, yet ignored their dull persistent squabbling; his attention absorbed only Sam – her rising chest, her softly flickering eyelids, the tiny murmurs that floated from her lips. He reached his cold fingers to her forehead and shifted a strand of hair, whispering as he hunched to her side.

'_Sam...what have I done to you...'_

Her head lolled on the pillow, desperately trying to focus on the gentle words floating over her.

'Jack...Jack I'm sorry...'

The Joker blinked slowly, weariness beginning to set-in as he settled on the bed beside her, all the time running his fingers over her skin.

'I messed everything up...I ruined everything, Jack...I'm so sorry...'

He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb and quietly adjusted the shirt that he'd pressed over the open wound.

'Yeah, well...you always were a pain in the ass...'

A grumble of humour escaped his throat, but still a smile never appeared. He felt Sam lift a weak hand to his shoulder, and eventually to his neck. Any other time he would have pulled away; flinched at such a sensitive touch, but this time, he didn't want to. This time he wanted to feel the warmth of her fingers on his face. He wanted to kiss the palm of her hand – he wanted to tell her that he loved her.

But he wouldn't. He'd stay as distant as he possibly could, and lock away the memories that were beginning to seep through into his conscious mind.

He took her hand and lowered it from his neck.

'Don't talk anymore...just try and rest – we've got someone coming to help...'

His eyes traced the girl's features as she relaxed back into the pillows. It took all the strength in the world not to lean in and kiss those pale lips, but simply to lift her hand to his tinted mouth and leave a kiss on her fingers instead.

Aware that they were no longer alone, The Joker quietly pulled away, and ran the same hand through his hair. A terrified medic was flung into the room.

'Here's the doctor you wanted boss – only bitch with enough guts to come with us -'

The thug's sentence was finished abruptly when a fist wheeled round and punched him to the floor.

'_**YOU LEFT HER ON HER OWN!!'**_

He scrabbled frantically back on his palms, the looming shadow of The Joker advancing on him still.

'No – no, boss – she took off! We didn't have a chance!'

The make-up around his mouth prickled with sweat as he picked the boy off the greasy linoleum and pulled him closer.

'_If she dies...'_ The Joker's voice growled dangerously _'...you won't know what's hit you...'_

His dark eyes searched the kid's face, before discarding him back onto the floor and returning to Sam's side. He felt the doctor trembling by the door, and raised his face to her.

'You know what you're doing?'

She nodded from her corner. The Joker lifted a hand and beckoned her towards him. A gun was swiftly taken from his pocket and cocked beside her head.

'Any _funny business_ – and you die, d'you understand?'

With a pathetic whimper the doctor nodded again, taking the stethoscope shakily from around her neck.

'As for you lot -'

The Joker stepped heavily towards the group of shying mobsters, and sneered with disgust.

'You make sure no one gets in or out – _she_ doesn't leave this room -'

He jabbed his gun towards the doctor as she began her examination.

'Anyone tries to be a _hero_ and get in through the front doors, you shoot them – got it?'

He glanced one last time at Sam's quietly writhing body, relentlessly muttering with fever. He felt his heart plunge within his chest, his eyes burning at the sight of her piteous form. With a long breath he found his voice again.

'If anything happens to her...I want to know _immediately_...'

Reluctantly, he turned to leave the room.

'Where...are you going...?'

The Joker hesitated over the leader, before pushing his head away with the barrel of his gun.

'I've got rounds to do...'

* * *

A continual monotone of beeping sounded throughout the room. Harvey had been vaguely aware of a mask pacing backwards and forwards in front of the doorway for the past three hours, and was now wondering why he had not paced back into view.

With a rush of effort he rolled his face towards the door, wincing as flakes of charred skin stuck to the pillow. His head swam when he found what was stood there.

'Evening – Mister Dent...'

The DA's flesh shuddered, the bare muscles of his face stretching hideously.

'What are _you_ doing here...?'

'Tt – Harvey...that's no way to greet _family_...'

The Joker sidled towards the bed, absently flicking switches and twiddling buttons.

'How'd you get in here?'

'Me...? I just – walked right through the door...how d'you get in here?'

Harvey's ragged brow darkened.

'You know how I got in here...'

'Yeah – about that...I just want you to know that this -' The Joker motioned around him 'Wasn't _totally_ my fault...'

'So whose fault was it then?'

'Well – Gordon isn't completely innocent..._Commissioner _Gordon – I was in his police cell when you and, uh – Ra...'

'_**Rachel...!**__'_

'_Rachel_ – were abducted! It didn't _really_...have a lot to do with me...'

'Your plan – your fault...'

The Joker tilted his head in gentle acceptance.

'I just – don't want there to be any hard feelings, between us...'

He lengthened the 's' until it trailed off. Harvey's one eye narrowed to a glare.

'Where's Sam...?'

He watched the clown slowly place a scalpel back on the table, and then lower himself into the chair beside the bed. Eventually the cool-dark eyes rose to him, when The Joker smoothed back his greasy hair and smiled.

'Mm – Sam...'

Harvey's arms fought against the restraints that kept him in place.

'_What have you done to my sister, you bastard?! If you've hurt her, I swear I'll...!'_

'You'll what? _Stare_ me to death?'

The Joker ran his eyes over Harvey's pitiful state and raised a sympathetic brow.

'Seriously Harvey – you really need to _think_ before you speak...'

He swept Dent's coin into his palm and tossed it from one hand to the other.

'_Anyway..._we need to talk about a few things...'

'_Where's Sam?!'_

'If you'll just – let me get round to that...!'

Harvey was hushed quickly.

'As you know, Sam and I are..._expecting_...'

He continued, sitting back in the chair and crossing his legs on the bed.

'...aaand as you can imagine – we're gonna have our hands pretty much full...'

'You should shoot the damn thing as soon as it's born -'

The Joker was forced to pause, and draw in a weary breath. His tongue ran over his lips with a smirk.

'Y'know, Harvey – for someone who's strapped to a bed with only a cotton gown to protect him from a man with three knives and a gun...you're not being _particularly _clever...'

His eyes flickered towards the DA's sunken face, completely unabashed at the sight of him.

'_So_...' He persisted 'I guess what I'm trying to say is that – we're gonna need some _help_...running the business as it were...'

With Harvey glaring as best he could, The Joker rose from his seat and began to fiddle with the bed's controls.

'Now, I know what you're gonna say – you're not interested – well, then that's fair enough, but...'

The bed began to raise Dent into an awkward sitting position.

'...before you make your decision I want you to remember something: I _do_ have several explosive devices primed ready to destroy this hospital...'

Contentment creased The Joker's features.

'You'd have done it by now...'

'Mm – are you willing to risk that?

He was pleased to see Dent's sallow eyes drop away in submission.

'I want you to think for just a moment, now Harvey...who exactly _was it_ that deprived you of everything you had...?'

'_**You did...!!**__'_

The Joker rolled his eyes impatiently and interrupted.

'_No no_ – look – I gave them the opportunity to save her – I told them where you both were. So what was _Gordon_ was doing at the time...hm? And the _Batman_...?'

Dent watched as his tormentor wandered purposely around the bed, gradually releasing each limb from its restrictions.

'Think of all that they let happen to you, Harvey. You have lost _so much_ – simply because they were too wrapped-up in dealings with the mob, that they couldn't make it to Rachel in time to _save her_...'

As soon as the last arm was free, Harvey threw himself at The Joker; only to have his body fiercely slammed back down to the bed. The tobacco-stained breath stung the bare sinew of Dent's gaping jowls as he leaned in closer.

'_Come on, Harvey_ – look at what I did to this city in a few months with a couple of gallons of gasoline and some charge – hm? I've come to realise that people only start to panic when things don't go _according to plan_...if tomorrow I told them that a truck full of soldiers was going to be blown sky-high, no one would worry...but then, when they find out that this monster terrorizing their streets was once actually _normal_ – like them..._**well**_ _**then everyone loses their minds!!**_'

With a manic giggle The Joker gripped his victim's wrists tighter and inhaled.

'And that's what I did to you Harvey – I took your perfect little plan and I turned-it-on-itself...'

Silence stole through the room as the two scarred and beaten men judged one another from under hooded eyes.

Gradually, Harvey's arms were let go and the sheets around him straightened.

'Now...see what I did...and think what we could do _together_...all of us...'

Carefully a gun was pulled from The Joker's coat and the DA's fingers wrapped around the trigger.

'...blood's thicker than water, Harvey...we can turn this city on its head – and all you need to do, is introduce a little _an-archy_...'

The Joker pressed the barrel breathlessly against his own forehead.

'This world isn't content without a little _chaos_; and that's what I brought them...I'm an agent of _chaos_...' He pointed down at the bedded hero '...and y'know the thing about chaos Harvey...?'

Dent's eyes refused to leave the painted face even as the coin was pressed into his palm.

'_...it's fair...'_

With the gun firmly against his head, The Joker waited, and watched as Dent considered his 'lucky' coin. A calloused thumb ran over its burnt and battered surface.

Gradually he lifted the coin so that it hung between them both; dimly reflecting the dawning light outside. He showed The Joker the clean-faced head, before sneering.

'_You live...'_

The Joker restrained a tiny smirk.

'Mm-hm...'

Dent turned the coin so that the scraped and defaced surface stared back at the shadowed eyes.

'_You die...'_

A grin stretched the scars that crawled beneath the make-up.

'_Now we're talking...'_

The coin was flicked into the air and abruptly landed in Harvey's left palm. He looked back up to The Joker, only to find him gazing straight back; his eyes dancing with delight.

'Looks like we've got ourselves a deal...'

'...and you live to see another day...'

Harvey let the gun fall away from his head just as one of the clowns skidded into the doorway.

'_Boss! It's the girl – she's, she's...!'_

The Joker spun on his heels and took an anxious step towards the boy.

'_She's what?! What's the matter?! Spit it out you idiot!'_

'_She's...giving birth...to a baby...!!'_

His usually firm, nonchalant exterior seemed to crumble inwards as he stood and stared at the masked associate. He could neither hear, nor see anything around him for what seemed like hours, until he was suddenly revived and the reality of the situation struck him at full force.

'_Boss...?!'_

The Joker turned to Harvey and smiled, slightly dazed.

'I gotta dash – we'll chat later...'

Harvey sat up from the pillows, stunned.

'_Sam...? She's here? Why's she here?'_

Before disappearing out of sight, The Joker leant back into the room and grinned awkwardly.

'I – uh – shot her...'


	18. Twist

**_Well here we are - the final two chapters of the story. Thank you so much for reading - I'll put a proper note at the end of the last chapter. Hope you enjoy this and it lives up to your expectations!_**

**_-Sal-_**

* * *

He could hear the screaming even as he rounded the farthest corner of the long corridor. His double-soled shoes left black marks screeching behind as The Joker skidded past Sam's door, almost crashing to the ground before he caught the frame and dived through the doorway, breathless.

'_Sam, I – __**WOAH JESUS...!!**__'_

Without pausing he wheeled round to leave; being confronted with his wife in mid-labour.

'_No! I need you here – you have to keep her calm! I can't do this on my own!'_

The doctor – now matching Sam's fevered complexion – yelled through gritted teeth, forcing The Joker to hesitate, and stiffly re-enter the room.

With a reluctant step, he moved towards the bed.

'_Mmehhh...'_

His face cringed with an absolute dismay.

'...what can I..._do_?'

He watched as the young medic lunged from one end of the bed to the other, frantically trying to attend Sam's heaving chest wound, whilst similarly keep her from losing the baby.

'_Talk to her or something, for God's sake! You're usually full of chat – talk to her!'_

She wiped an arm over her sweat-soaked forehead before checking Sam's pulse.

'_Shit...'_

Her hiss of panic brought The Joker further into the room, his eyes dulling as he realised that Sam wasn't responding to anything the doctor said.

'What's the matter...?'

'Her heart-rate – it's far too slow...she's not hearing me...'

Sam's moaning grew suddenly louder as he edged closer to her bedside. Her body arched and writhed as the sheets were gripped between her fingers; an ever-growing crimson blaze spreading through the pale linen.

'Sam...Sam, can you talk to me sweetheart...?'

The doctor opened the girl's eyelids, only to find whites staring back at her.

'Come on Sam – I need you to work with me here...'

A sodden rag was thrown to the side and swiftly replaced with a fresh lint dressing. The Joker's lofty form doused them both in shadow.

The doctor looked to him.

'_You've got to talk to her_..._**please**_...!'

His suddenly gaunt features glared blindly at her. With numb fingers he drew towards Sam, and carefully took her hand.

'Sam...'

He swallowed; his mouth dry and his voice hoarse. He coughed, trying to clear his throat.

'Sam...stop fucking around and talk to me...'

His grip was squeezed momentarily, but released again as a rush of pain shuddered through her body. He felt the doctor's gaze on his shoulder.

Licking his lips, he continued.

'Don't think about going anywhere on me now – that's...that's just not fair play...'

A twinge in his left ear caused The Joker to flinch. He shook the hum away, baring gritted teeth.

'I need you – to be here, Sam...I mean; what the fuck am I gonna do with a baby on my own?!'

The chuckle that left his greasy lips wasn't one of glee, but rather more nervous and fearful than anything he could remember. He felt the prickle of sweat upon his own brow, and hid it with a sweep of his bleached hair.

The doctor eyed him timidly as she worked; her pale blue eyes darting to him occasionally, reassuring herself that she was safe. She saw the tender way he took the girl's hand; and the softness with which his touch brushed her skin. An undeniable sense of pity gradually washed over her, and for a moment she forgot every news report she had heard on this man, despite the garish make-up completing his visage. It all suddenly seemed so – normal.

A long drawn breath brought Sam's eyes to his. She strained through the foggy haze of white pain and opened her mouth to speak.

'The baby….Jack…'

The Joker raised his face, still fighting with the drumming twitch in his ear. He could feel words hitting his brain like the heavy storm on their thin, plain glass. He saw flashes of lightning, and tightened his arms around Sam's weeping body.

'_Marry me, Sam…'_

He shook his head again; a curl of jaded-blonde catching him in the eye.

'_Don't worry_ about the baby – _just_, keep talking to me…...keep your eyes _open_ Sam…!'

Again the voice rattled in his brain. From her end of the bed the doctor could see The Joker mentally battling with emotions that he hadn't wanted to meet again. The shock of feeling rose and bubbled in his throat: the memories scratching to break through. He smeared a frustrated palm over his forehead, pushing back his hair.

'Just promise me you'll look after the baby……don't let them take it away…'

With an agonizing moan her body doubled as another contraction contorted inside her. Sam threw her head back against the pillow; her scream hollering through The Joker's being.

'_**Jaaacck….!**__'_

_He could hear her cries as his feet carried him away from the bedroom and towards the front door. She was bawling his name – she needed him with her – she needed his hand to hold._

_Jack's fingers trembled on the brass door handle as her final scream ripped through his mind. He slammed a palm into the front of his head, desperately trying to beat the manic laughter from his brain. It cackled through his skull and dribbled along his spine._

_The door finally slammed behind him as he left the buzzing apartment; left this life for another – left Sam lying on the bedroom floor bleeding to death…_

'_**FOR GOD'S SAKE DO SOMETHING!!'**_

The Joker flung himself to his feet, ripping the gun from the discarded coat on the floor and hurling it at the terrified medic.

'_I'm trying…I-I'm trying! I can't do anymore than I am...!!'_

She choked on the shock of tears and whimpered as he forced her back to the bed.

'_**I am telling you now – if she dies….'**_

'Jack please…!'

'_Jack please – don't leave me…don't go – Jack – __**JACK PLEASE…!!**__'_

'_**I CAN'T FUCKING **__**THINK**__** IN HERE!!'**_

The Joker raged as the voices shattered on the floor around him, leaving the room stolen and still. He glared about, suddenly dazed, only to find Harvey braced in the doorway.

'Sam…?'

The weakening form in the bed inhaled a deep, shuddering breath, before a heart-wrenching scream broke the silence.

'_**OH MY GOD – GET HIM AWAY FROM ME!! GET HIM AWAY…!!**__'_

'Sam, it's me! It's Harvey…!'

He stepped further into the room towards her.

'_**GET AWAY…!!**__'_

The Joker lunged at him dangerously.

'_What the bloody hell are you doing?! Get out!'_

He threw the half-dressed man back out into the corridor and into the arms of two skulking henchmen.

'_You really think she needs to see you in this state?! You fucking idiot!!'_

He shoved Harvey away with a sharp prod to the chest, gradually drawing his dark eyes back to Sam's weeping carcass.

'_Jack – I don't want to die...!'_

'You're not going to die, Sam...'

'_Jack – I'm sorry...I'm sorry for everything I ever did to hurt you...'_

Her tears came hard and fast, blanketing her words in sobs. The Joker could do nothing but stand over her wretchedly, his sweat-soaked clothes now stiff and dark with blood. The black paint around his eyes had run with the hours of crying, and now cast rivers down his wickedly scarred cheeks. He brought himself closer, and let her reaching hand grasp his.

'_I love you...SO much...and I always have – ever since I met you...I never stopped loving you...'_

The Joker's knees buckled beneath him as he lowered himself to the ground. He felt the ever-aching throb beat against his skull as the crazed-laughter rumbled on inside his head. This time though, with a strength he never knew he had, he battled hard against it, the pressure finally crumpling towards the back of his brain and distorting so that Jack's thoughts began to creep through the haze.

For the first time in two years, Jack Napier could hear himself think.

His stained, filthy fingers gripped his wife's hand as he sobbed. Each tear removed slices of his ever-fading make-up and drew the edges of his crimson smile downwards so that the scars no longer forced him to grin. With a stubborn breath of control he slipped his digits into the pocket of his waistcoat and removed a tiny, dented silver band. The metal was freezing to his touch as he rolled it between the tips of his fingers.

Jack's tarnished green eyes rose to her, sparkling.

'I've kept this with me every day we were apart...I've never let go of it – and I've never let go of you – I've always been there Sam, deep down...and I've always loved you right back...'

A weak, barely visible smile crept over the girl's face as her husband eased the ring back onto her wedding finger. She thumbed it gently, before drawing a line over his jaw.

'_Thank you Jack...'_

With a kiss to her palm, he laid his cheek against her flesh, becoming lost for a perfect moment in her eyes.

Without warning, Sam's body convulsed into an uncontrollable fit of agony. Her grasp ripped at The Joker's shirt as she yelled, her eyes slamming shut in crazed torment.

Jack's face gaped; frozen in horror as he watched his wife struggle for breath. His fists clenched tightly around her hand as the doctor took her stethoscope and pressed it to Sam's chest.

'She can't breathe...'

'Wha – what d'you mean? She was fine just now...'

He saw the doctor shake her head and quickly pull up her sleeves.

'It's no good – this kid's coming too slow...'

'_Well make it come faster!'_

The Joker rose to his full height, the doctor suddenly tiny in comparison.

'I can't just make it come faster...look, she's losing too much blood; her body can't deal with it! Either I try and save her and lose the baby for sure – or...'

'_Or what?!'_

He stood and stared in hardened terror as the doctor glanced round pathetically at Harvey.

'...or I save the baby and she dies...either way – there's little hope for her...'

The Joker's body wavered for a moment, his head swimming with chaos. He dropped his eyes to Sam's strangely quiet body, before slowly shaking his head.

'No...no...'

In silent reassurance, Harvey let his gaze connect with the young doctor's. He took a step from the shadows of the hallway; approaching the gently heaving figure.

'Jack...'

The laughter began to ripple from The Joker's tall, brooding shadow.

'_What is it with __that name__...?!'_

Laughter turned into a howl, as he threw his head round at both patient and doctor.

'_Why would you think I give a shit, anyway?!'_

The howl dropped to a growl as he ran a hand over his wife's pale cheek.

Silence suddenly fell. Harvey's stare was fixed, aware that the doctor was still hovering; waiting for permission to save the girl's life.

With an explosive slash The Joker launched himself across the room at her, ripping a knife from his pocket and jamming it between the doctor's lips.

'_**I told you to save her – did I not...?!'**_

A pathetic whimper dribbled from her blood-filled mouth. She let him tighten his hold on her neck as he dragged her back towards the bed.

'_**What did I say would happen if you didn't...? Hmm...? ANSWER ME!!'**_

'_Jack...!'_

Harvey stepped closer, desperately trying to intercept.

'_**WHAT DID I SAY WOULD HAPPEN...?!'**_

'If you kill her, there's no hope for Sam _or_ the baby...Jack – you have to let her save this kid...it's what Sam would have wanted...'

'_**She's not even dead and you're talking as if she was...!!'**_

The Joker swivelled round on the former-DA, the knife catching the edge of the doctor's mouth, making her cry out in pain.

Carefully Harvey raised his hands in surrender as he was backed towards the door.

'Come on Jack – think about it...one good thing could come out of all this...you could still keep a part of Sam alive...'

The Joker's already-sloping shoulders seemed to sag even lower as Harvey's words hit him. He paused in his long amble and felt the knife loosen in its clammy grip. Reluctantly he turned to see the injured doctor now fussing once again over her patient; not a second thought spared for her own bleeding mug. Sam, he realised, was now barely moving.

With a hesitant wrench he made the long walk back to the side of the bed; his eyes tracing the invisible lines etched by his fingers. His soft touch came to rest upon her cheek, just below one of the brazen scars which drew her mouth into an eternal grin. A gentler smirk danced on his lips for a moment as he remembered glimpsing the first time she had smiled at him.

'You're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen...'

A hand smoothed away the same piece of hair that always chose to fall against her jaw.

'...you always will be...'

He pressed his numb lips lightly against hers, remaining there only for a few meagre seconds.

With one last gaze over those gentle features, The Joker rose to his feet and fixed his tired eyes on the doctor. The young woman nodded; understanding that he would neither give his consent, nor deny her the right to do her job.

Leaving the thick black silence behind him, Jack's shadow retreated from the starched room and into the corridor; aware that his long loping stride would take him to the farthest corner of the hospital, and there he would huddle in the darkness, until this nightmare was finally over.


	19. Kill Game

The lights of Gotham speckled The Joker's features as he gazed out over the city. This was the darkest he'd ever seen the wretched town, despite the dawning rays punctuating the horizon.

His chest heaving with a sigh, The Joker laid his weary brow against the cold glass of the window, and quietly watched as the two ferries began their long journey out of the harbour.

Harvey's bare feet were clammy on the linoleum as he padded towards the farthest end of the hospital. The tiny bundle in his arms wriggled slightly, before nestling back against his shirt; its fingers blindly groping the air as Dent found The Joker hunched in the darkness, staring out over the awakening city.

'Jack...'

There was no response from the ghostly silhouette, frozen as it was. Harvey could make out a faint glint of white reflecting off from the black glass; eyes lost somewhere within the mask, yet the smile still eerily patent. He stepped further in, the baby grasping his calloused finger.

'...there's someone you should meet...'

The Joker's eyes flickered away from the infinite view, narrowing onto a greasy patch of floor. With immeasurable effort, he peeled his head from the window and turned slowly to Harvey.

A low sigh of realisation escaped his exhausted frame when his gaze finally came to rest upon the child.

'...this is your daughter, Jack...'

It seemed a long while before he could fully comprehend what he was seeing. The Joker continued to stare on the tiny squirming creature, until he forced a step towards it.

Harvey watched with a smile as he hovered over the bundle, green eyes flickering slightly as he shifted back the cloth and studied the little girl.

His brow suddenly darkened to a frown.

'_...Sam...?'_

Harvey's silence was enough to tell him what he already knew.

Hesitantly he reached his gloved fingers towards the blanketed child and lifted it from Dent's arms. The baby squirmed for a moment as it was hoisted into The Joker's abnormally tender grasp, before settling comfortably against his chest.

A slow, heavy gait carried both father and child back towards the window. His eyes scanned his daughter's fragile little body, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. The room's stillness washed over The Joker's aching limbs, as he drew in one last, uncertain breath.

His grin rose to Gotham's gradually busying streets; one of the ferries releasing a contented blast from its horn. He snorted quietly to himself and glanced once again at the now softly gurgling newborn.

'Y'know...I think you're gonna enjoy Gotham city, my princess...'

Gently he rocked the bundle, supporting her in one arm whilst the other free hand slipped into his pocket.

'You can learn so much from just – _watching_, people...letting them make their own choices in life...'

A small, make-shift device was pulled from the coat and dangled over the baby's grasping digits. The Joker chuckled, his head tilting in fascination at such innocence.

'We're really gonna have some fun, kid...just learning to play the game...'

Without looking, he ran his thumb around the small button in the centre of his control, before effortlessly clicking down the brazen surface.

The babe didn't so much as flinch when the flash from the exploding ferries flickered over its dozing features. The blast rumbled quietly through the room, washing The Joker in a fresh air of contentment. He closed his eyes against the dull roar and let his head fall back against his shoulders; a clean grin stretching the scars across his face. His hand stroked over the kid's head, easing its gentle murmurs.

'But y'know the first thing on the agenda...?'

Harvey heard the voice dwindle into the distance as he paced away down the hall, leaving the father alone with his child.

'...we need to find ourselves a Batman...'

The droll, guttural chuckle splintered from The Joker with a heaving bark of insanity; the streets of Gotham below seething into panic-stricken chaos as he shared with his tiny daughter, the vision of what was to come.

* * *

**_And there we have it. I really hope you've enjoyed it and thank you so much for all the lovely reviews you've given me - it gave me so much encouragement. Keep your eyes out for my other bits - I'm hoping to finish my Sweeney Todd story shortly, possibly a sequel to this, and I will be uploading my Pirates of the Caribbean epic very soon; I hope you'll join me :D_**

**_I would also like to dedicate this writing to the memory of the late Heath Ledger. I know it's completely insignificant in the light of what has happened and I could NEVER do his character justice, and I have to admit I never knew a lot about the guy - I never followed his work before - but I think he, as well as any one of us faced with such a tragedy, deserves a memory, and this is the most I can offer him. Sorry for being sickly, but without him I doubt any of us would be reading any of these wonderful stories, or would have had the joy of such a film. So thank you Heath; may you rest in peace._**


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